Unexpected
by Lsquared1501
Summary: The night before events take place at the Chicago’s World Fair but the night goes a little differently from the original episode. Based on the episode The World’s Columbian Exposition 1x11. M for later chapters. It will continue past this episode eventually. Enjoy!
1. An Interesting Night

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to Timeless and ABC.

An Interesting Night

Chicago 1893

Lucy-

Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bed in the little hotel room that Flynn had procured for them. He was sitting in a chair in the corner, while his number one henchman, Carl, stood in front of the door. Lucy felt it was unnecessary for Carl to guard the door, looking menacing and all. Flynn had the key to the locked door, and anyway, she knew it was pointless to try to escape. She'd never make it, or not very far if she did manage to get away.

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. _Oh, god, _Lucy thought, _that's so cliche! _She mentally shook herself and tried to think of a way to lighten the tension, even if by only the smallest amount. Her nerves were almost shot and she needed to change the atmosphere in the room, a room that felt like it was getting smaller with every breath they all took.

"Um..." Lucy began hesitantly. "Is it possible I could get a glass of water. Please?"

Flynn looked up from his deep concentration and almost seemed surprised to see her there, as if he'd forgotten all about her. _How could he forget he was holding someone hostage?! _She thought. He shifted in his chair, watching Lucy with a stare that felt like it delved deep into her soul. She inhaled quickly, wondering just what it was he saw there. The look made her squirm. It also caused her to feel a strange discomfort that she couldn't identify.

Neither Flynn nor Carl made a move to grant her request. Exasperated, Lucy huffed out, "Oh, for god's sake, I'm not going to try to escape. I know it's no use, the door's locked and we're on the second floor so the window's not an option either. And what exactly do you think I could do with water that would help me get away? It's not like throwing it in your face would do anything other than piss you off, and we all know I don't have enough strength to do much damage if I tried to break it over your head. Plus, I'd only have the one glass and there's two of you, so that wouldn't work in my favor either."

She next turned to fully face Flynn, eyeing his tall form. "And, besides, I sincerely doubt I could even _reach_ the top of your head," she said, crossing her arms in front of her in annoyance. "Not without a chair, at least," she mumbled petulantly. Lucy was further annoyed with the lack of response from either man, but she swore she saw Flynn smirk at her before his face went blank and dark once again.

Not looking away from Lucy, Flynn said to Carl, "Carl, do you think you could rustle up a couple of glasses and some water? Maybe some whiskey, too, if you can find it." He held the key out to Carl, which he took and disappeared from the room, leaving Flynn and Lucy alone. It was very quiet in the room then, the silence even more pronounced than before Carl left. _Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to send him away, _Lucy thought, slightly panicking as she noticed Flynn was brooding in that sexy way of his again.

_Sexy?!? Where the hell did that come from? _She mentally slapped herself. _Good god, Lucy, this man has tried to kill you multiple times in the last several months. You cannot, under no circumstances whatsoever, think that Flynn is sexy! _That accent of his and the way he said her name was definitely _not_ sexy either, and the urge to brush the hair from his forehead when it fell too far forward was really just her wanting to distract him so she could hit him or something, right?

Flynn broke the silence when he chuckled. "I can see the wheels in your head turning, but the question is: what has you concentrating so hard? It's almost like there's an inner battle waging inside that brilliant mind of yours." How could Flynn see she was struggling with what she was feeling toward him in that moment? _Did I write about it in the journal he has and already knows? Because that would be embarrassing. Maybe he's just teasing me._

Lucy immediately dismissed that supposition once she got another look at Flynn's expression. There was no teasing or gloating, only honest curiosity and a what looked like concern. That threw her off balance just as much as her thinking he was sexy. How could Flynn honestly be concerned about the inner workings of her mind and appear to earnestly want to help. It was an enigma, _Flynn_ was an enigma.

"Um, I..." She began but cut off her words as the door opened and Carl pulled a cart into the room. It held two glasses, a small bucket of ice, a pitcher of water, and a decanter of whiskey. Flynn waved him off when he went to return the key to his boss, for lack of a better title.

"No," Flynn said. "Lock us in and get some rest. I think we're going to need all the sleep we can get for tomorrow. Just lock the door, keep the key, and be here at eight in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Carl threw a glare at Lucy and left the room, but not before leaving a set of modern day handcuffs and key on the side table by Flynn. "For our resident historian," he said nastily as he shut the door.

Her gaze was fixated on them when Flynn's voice pulled her back to reality. "I know what you're thinking, Lucy, and don't worry."

The idea that Flynn already knew what she was thinking startled her, and her eyes shot to his in panic. "You...you do?" She squeaked. _Oh, god, he knows. _Lucy flushed in humiliation. She would rather he was shooting at her than know what she'd been thinking.

"Yes," Flynn replied, his voice indifferent. "I'll only use the cuffs on you if you make them necessary."

"Oh," was all Lucy said. _Ohhh, _she thought to herself. _So he _didn't _know what I was thinking. _Relief flooded through her. She definitely had _not _been thinking about Flynn handcuffing her to keep her from escaping. Well, to be honest she _had _been thinking about that, but it was for a reason entirely different than preventing her from escape. More like she was imagining Flynn cuffing her more for pleasure than restraint.

Shame filled her then and she dropped her head down. _I should _not_ be thinking like this. Flynn's tried to kill me several times, and I'm currently his hostage, for crying out loud! _Lucy mentally berated herself. _What is wrong with me? _To her horror, Lucy then realized that the very short fanatsy images in her head had stoked her desire so much that her cotton panties had a distinct wetness becoming evident.

_Oh, my god. I can't believe I'm aroused by Flynn! How is this possible? _Lucy closed her eyes tight, willing the thoughts and feelings she had away. It wasn't working though because when Flynn said her name, the deep timbre of his voice, the way he said her name in that sexy accent of his made her body shiver slightly. She only hoped that he hadn't noticed. _Why do I love how my name sounds from his lips so much?_

"Yes?" Lucy asked, trying to pretend that she was not aroused, only curious as to what he wanted to say. She hoped her voice being higher than usual didn't give her away either.

"_Are _you going to make the handcuffs necessary?"

Lucy hesitated, as if unsure how to answer the question. "No...I'm not going to make you need to handcuff me." _Unless it's to the bed so you can have your way with me. _Lucy was a little stunned at the thought, for it had come unbidden. At least she hadn't said it aloud. _Thank god for small miracles. _She sighed in relief. She became aware that Flynn was staring at her intensely. It was like Flynn's dark eyes could see into her soul and she was frozen.

"Good," was all Flynn said.

Once more, Flynn's voice was low, almost seductive, and Lucy clenched her thighs together. It was an attempt to stave off the desire that washed over her again, but it was no use. Her core throbbed and she felt a gush of moisture come out. She was glad Flynn didn't know what she was thinking or feeling.


	2. An Interesting Night Continues

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belong to Timeless and ABC.

An Interesting Night Continues

Flynn-

Unbeknownst to Lucy, Flynn knew _exactly _what she had on her mind. And not because of the journal, either. She hadn't written a thing about this, apparently not wanting to embarrass herself, even in the future. He knew because he could read her body language. He was a highly trained ex-NSA asset, after all. He'd suspected, but wasn't entirely sure. When her thighs had suddenly snapped together, his suspicion was confirmed.

Flynn was floored with the knowledge that Lucy was currently aroused by the thought of him and handcuffs, her preoccupation with staring at them clued him to her thoughts on those. To be honest, though he'd never admit it to anyone, even under torture, Flynn found Lucy attractive. He found her _very_ attractive. He'd barely noticed how beautiful she was when she came to him that first time what felt like so long ago now. He'd, understandably, been too preoccupied by his grief.

It wasn't until later that he'd become aware of her beauty. No one knew this but long before he'd stolen the Mothership, Flynn had gone to one of her classes at Stanford. He'd hidden in the shadows in the back and Lucy had never known he was there. He'd meant to stay only long enough to get a better look at her, but had stayed for her entire lecture.

Flynn tried to tell himself it was because he was studying his soon to be "enemy-come-ally," but that'd be a lie. He'd been mesmerized by her beauty, her personality, lost in her smiles, and loved the feeling that washed over him as he'd absorbed the sound of her voice. Flynn felt like he knew her from reading the journal over and over so many times that he'd practically had it memorized.

He quickly realized at the Hindenburg that he didn't know her at all. She was so different from the woman in the journal and he hated it. Hated how frightened of him Lucy had been when he held that knife to her throat. It had to be done however. She'd left a note inside the journal that he needed to follow it as closely as possible and he tried his best. It was so hard on Flynn to see how Lucy viewed him before they would eventually become allies. He didn't want her to hate him, and he didn't like scaring or hurting her, but it couldn't be helped. He just had to hold on until things changed, until they became a "team," as she'd written.

In an attempt to sidetrack himself from his own carnal thoughts involving Lucy, which they were there and had been for a while now, Flynn stood and walked to the cart. Putting a few ice cubes into both glasses, he poured some whiskey in and a splash of water. He didn't want the drinks to be too strong as he, nor Lucy, needed to be hungover tomorrow. Well, it might be just as well if Lucy was a little off _her_ game. She did seem to keep beating him, even with her help from the journal. He turned and offered one of the glasses to Lucy. She only shook her head, averting her eyes from him.

"Come on, Lucy." She only shook her head again. Flynn sighed in exasperation. "Lucy, I know that you're too keyed up to sleep right now. This," he tipped the glass back and forth a little, the ice clinking against the sides, "will help you relax. We both need sleep." There was a long, silent pause. "You know I'm right." He waited. Finally, Lucy took a couple of hesitant steps forward.

Flynn smiled. _Ah, victory, _he thought. Lucy's fingers brushed against his as she took the glass from him. The contact made him slightly shiver, he just hoped to hell she hadn't noticed. The last thing he needed was for her to figure out that he was attracted to her. That would really complicate matters, as if they weren't complicated enough. He also didn't need her or her team to have something to potentially use against him.

Lucy took a big gulp from the glass and immediately started coughing. Flynn wanted to laugh, because it was comical, not out of malice, but didn't want to embarrass her so all he did was say, "Not a whiskey drinker, I see."

"Um, no. I'm more of a white wine person." Lucy admitted timidly after she got her coughing under control.

"Well, you want to just sip it then."

"Okay," was Lucy's simple reply.

"Did you never go crazy with drinking like most American kids, especially during your college years?"

Lucy laughed, a real laugh, and Flynn loved the sound. She had never laughed because of something he'd said to her. It was a nice change from the fear, disgust, or indifference she normally showed. He liked it. "Uh, no, definitely not."

"Why not? Isn't it like a rite of passage here? The time to rebel or some nonsense." He said. He waited for her answer, genuinely curious.

"Well, for a lot of kids, I suppose, but not for me. I had too much presssure on me from my mom to succeed. When I did go out and drink, it was usually daiquiris, but I didn't go out all that often. I didn't really become a wine drinker until all the dinner parties I had to attend when Mom started "grooming" me for a position at Stanford. And those began as soon as I turned twenty-one." Lucy rolled her eyes.

Before Flynn could say anything else, Lucy chuckled, but he could detect a hint of bitterness in it. She took a small sip and said, "The only time I ever tried to rebel, as you put it, was my sophomore year of college." Flynn was very interested now. This wasn't in the journal, either. A _rebellious _Lucy intrigued him. He let Lucy continue. "I was driving home one night to tell her I was dropping out to join a band."

Flynn's jaw could've hit the floor he was so surprised. Lucy? Drop out of school? Join a band? He didn't say anything or let his shock show, only took another sip. Lucy was deep in her memories and he didn't want her to clam up if he interrupted her train of thought.

"I lost control of the car and ended up going off the bridge into the river below. I could feel the water rising all around me and I couldn't get out. I thought I was going to die, but thankfully a stranger happened to be going by. He saved my life." Lucy quit talking and took a sip of her own drink.

Flynn didn't know what to say. Sorry that happened to her, which he was? Congratulate her for her attempt to get out from under her mother's thumb, even though it didn't happen? He was at a loss and was afraid that anything he might say would sound insincere to Lucy so he didn't say anything. They both sipped their drinks in companionable silence.


	3. An Awkward Request

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

An Awkward Request

Lucy-

Lucy and Flynn quietly sat sipping their drinks, both seemingly lost in their thoughts. Lucy was worried that while it didn't seem to be much, she'd revealed too much with her little story about her past. With a brilliant, yet frighteningly devious, mind like his, who knows what Flynn could do with the information. She _wanted_ to believe that he wouldn't find a way to use it against her, but she couldn't be sure, and that scared her more than she'd like to admit. Anything was possible when it came to Flynn.

Finding the glass empty, Lucy decided to take what would be considered a _walk on this wild side_ in this situation and have another drink. The casual conversation following the first had had the added benefit of calming her desire. _There's nothing like talking about your mother's obsessive expectations that you follow her footsteps and almost drowning to cool the blood! _She thought in a small amount of amusement. Flynn was also right about the whiskey, it was helping relax her. And he was right about about another thing as well, she desperately needed sleep. Whatever happened tomorrow, it was sure to be stressful so rest was required. She walked to the cart with the supplies and made herself another drink the way she'd watched Flynn. She saw from the corner of her eye that Flynn gave her a satisfied, all-knowing smirk. _Sexy bastard, _she thought.

_There I go again with calling him __sexy_. Lucy internally sighed. She couldn't deny it any longer, not even with herself. She found Flynn handsome, sexy, and was drawn to him like no man she'd met before. Even the attraction she felt for Wyatt was wholly different than the pull she felt toward Flynn. It was unexplainable. _Maybe it's like the pull of the Dark Side of the Force, like in Star Wars. _Lucy almost laughed aloud at that thought. _So if Flynn is the Dark Side, does that make Wyatt the Light, and me Anakin? _

_This is so absurd! _She mentally chastised herself. While it was still a matter between good and bad, right and wrong, it didn't involve aliens, light speed, or intergalactic domination. This was about protecting history, the good and the not-so-good sometimes, and saving their way of life as they knew it. _If I'm starting to compare my life to that of the _Chosen One to bring balance to the Force, _then I definitely need sleep. _Lucy quickly downed her drink and decided to get ready for bed. She'd been too preoccupied with her thoughts that she'd never noticed how quiet it was. Flynn hadn't said a word in the last several minutes. Neither did she realize that he'd been studying her, quite intently the whole time. Nor that he'd gotten up and made another drink for himself as well, before sitting back down to continue his watchful gaze.

It was when she stopped in front of the bed that Lucy became cognizant of a problem she felt she should've caught on to much, much sooner. While most of the time that her, Wyatt, and Rufus had a plethora of clothes to choose from at Mason Industries and Jiya to help her dress, that wasn't the case this time. Flynn had taken her to a dress shop when they first landed in Chicago and actually bought a dress for her. Which meant Lucy had every single period appropriate garment. This ensemble, of course, included a dress that buttoned up the back and a corset which also laced in the back.

The woman at the dress shop had helped with the clothes, but there was no woman now. Lucy knew she'd never be able to sleep, even with the liquor, comfortably with the high collared dress and tightly laced corset. As there was no woman on Flynn's "team," and it would seem very unorthodox to ask for the innkeeper's wife or staff member for help, there probably wouldn't be one here at this hour anyway. Since her and Flynn were obviously sharing a room, it would be assumed he was her husband and therefore _he_ would be the one to help undress his _wife_.

There was no nightgown so Lucy figured she'd just have to sleep in her chemise and drawers. It wouldn't be much, but she would be covered and that's all that mattered. _Well, there's no help for it. I need sleep and these clothes need to come off to accomplish that. _Heaving a sigh, Lucy turned back to face Flynn in his chair and gathered her courage to ask for his assistance. Never in a million years did Lucy think she would be asking Flynn, of all people, to help undress her.

In the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't a big deal, but in this instance, to Lucy, it was. It just seemed so...intimate. It made her nervous to think of Flynn helping her to take clothes off, and not just because he was the man keeping her hostage. It was the butterflies you felt the first time you undressed in front of someone and were worried how they saw you. And more alarming, how you felt before you slept with someone for the first time. _Oh, my god! _Lucy thought. _I am not having Flynn undress me so we can have sex! Besides, we wouldn't necessarily _need_ to undress to have sex. Just a few adjustments of clothing and..._

Lucy wanted to slap herself, blushing crimson. _Stop it! This isn't a big deal. It's not like he'll care! _Feeling much better after telling herself it wouldn't make a difference one way or the other to him, she took a breath and said, "Uh, Flynn...I need your help."

Flynn, who had still been watching her, only raised his eyebrows in question.

"The dress."

Confusion marred his brow. "What about the dress?"

"It buttons up the back."

"And...?"

_How could he be so obtuse? _Lucy huffed. "The buttons are in the back, and unless I've grown arms and hands that could reach back there, which I assure you I haven't, I'll not be able to take it off on my own." Flynn took a drink of whiskey as she stated her predicament.

Surprise, an emotion Lucy couldn't place, and finally amusement all crossed Flynn's features. "Well, now, that _is_ a problem, isn't it?" He grinned at her.

Lucy closed her eyes. "Please, Flynn, _don't_ be a jackass about this. It's already an awkward request enough. Please don't make it _more_ uncomfortable." She opened her eyes to look at him, expecting more sarcasm.

Flynn sobered immediately, however, much to Lucy's relief. "You're right, Lucy. I'm sorry." His apology felt sincere to Lucy. He got up and slowly walked to her. Stopping before her, Lucy couldn't bring herself to look up at him. She only silently turned around so he could work on her dress. She could feel his fingers fumble on the tiny buttons, making her smile a little. Neither spoke, and after what felt like forever, Flynn finally had all the buttons undone. She stepped out of it and laid it across the bed. Then she stood still for him again so he could untie the corset.

He pulled on the laces hesitantly, almost as if he were nervous himself. Lucy dismissed that notion, though. _Why would he be nervous? It's not him who's the one flirting with the Dark Side. _Lucy rolled her eyes. _There it is again, the Star Wars reference. _The corset was then loose enough that Flynn pulled it over her head and laid it next to her dress. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and said, "Is that all you need?"

Lucy kept her back to him, said yes, and thanked him. She didn't move until she heard him move away from her. She sat on the bed and took her Victorian time-period boots off, wishing that they weren't still in style as they made her feet hurt. Next came unclasping her garters so she could take her stockings off. Lucy walked to the small vanity, took her earrings off and started pulling pins from her hair, letting the wavy locks loose.

She had no idea how alluring she looked to Flynn while going about this, or how seductive it was to him and how much he was fighting the urge to go to her and crush her to him, to kiss the life out her. She hummed as she removed the pins, completely unaware that Flynn was willing his body to ignore his rapidly swelling desire, or the excitement from seeing so much of her skin, as little as it actually was. Every pin taken out, Lucy turned to see Flynn staring at her, an indecipherable expression on his face.

"Is there something the matter?" Lucy asked, wondering if Flynn would answer honestly as she waited for his answer.


	4. Undeniable Desire

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belong to Timeless and ABC.

Undeniable Desire

Flynn-

Flynn was glad he was so good at hiding his emotions. If he hadn't, he would've choked on the whiskey he'd taken a sip of when Lucy had said she couldn't remove her dress on her own. Although it wasn't said in a remotely sexy way, she was still effectively asking him to help her undress. It was a huge oversight Flynn felt somewhat bad about. If he'd thought this far ahead, they could've asked a maid to help, but he was also playing her _husband, _so he was the assumed help.

_Ah, well, it can't be helped now. _Not wanting her to know he rather enjoyed the idea of helping her to take clothes off, just the thought made his skin tingle and blood flow a little faster, Flynn decided to act amused instead, hoping to deflect his true thoughts.

"Well, now, that _is _a problem, isn't it." He grinned as he spoke. His comment worked more than he'd planned.

Lucy closed her eyes. "Please, Flynn, don't be a jackass about this. It's already an awkward request enough. Please don't make it more uncomfortable." Her voiced pleaded with him as she opened her eyes.

Flynn felt absolutely wretched so he rushed to apologize for his definitely jackass behavior. "You're right, Lucy. I'm sorry." _For more than you could ever possibly know! _he thought as he got up and walked toward her. Neither saying a word, Lucy turned to him, presenting her back. _My god! How could a dress have so _many _buttons?! And so small? _The dress wasn't going to unbutton itself so Flynn got to work. He was frustrated after the very first button.

_I just _had _to get her _all_ of the period appropriate clothes, didn't I? _Flynn was a little miffed at himself. Surely there could've been a dress where she could've taken it off herself? His frustration, however, gave way to amusement as he remembered the look on every single person's face they'd passed after landing in Chicago. Her 18th century dress didn't exactly blend well with the fashion of the late 19th century. And it wasn't like they could take her around in jeans, and they never would've found anything appropriate in theirs. Besides, rational thought had given way to irrational and Flynn had wanted to get Lucy a new dress, not just something stolen. _And my god, how beautiful she looked in that burgundy dress! _Flynn thought as he worked on the accursed buttons on that very dress he liked so much.

His fingers were clumsy. It wasn't because the buttons were small, that certainly didn't help, but because Flynn was simply nervous. _This is ridiculous! _He thought as he fumbled with the fifth button. _I'm a grown man, not some pubescent adolescent! I've been married, for crying out loud!!! It's not like I've never undressed a woman before, either. I took great pleasure _helping _Lorena. _He hoped thinking of Lorena would derail his thoughts, but it wasn't working as he'd hoped. It only served to remind him just how long it'd been since helping a woman undress.

Flynn couldn't believe he was having such a strong reaction to Lucy. She was so close, her subtle perfume was intoxicating, and he could feel her shoulders move with every breath she took. She was practically heaving by the time she stepped away from him to lay the dress on the bed. Flynn was forcefully keeping his breathing steady as he hesitantly began unlacing the corset. He tried to touch her as little as possible, fearing his reaction would only strengthen despite that there would still be a layer of cloth between them.

Finished, Flynn cleared his throat uncomfortably and asked, "Is that all you need?" After her answer in the affirmative, he backed away from Lucy, acting as a skittish animal would from a dangerous situation. For him, this _was _more dangerous than exchanging bullets with Wyatt. This was true desire he was feeling, something he hadn't felt since Lorena died. He retreated to his chair again. _God, I need more whiskey, _he thought as he sat down. Flynn rested his left ankle above his knee, picked up his glass and tried to pose himself in a way that would appear wholly unaffected.

He took a sip of whiskey and watched Lucy as she sat on the bed and took her boots off before unclasping her stockings. Flynn nearly spat out the drink he'd just taken when she'd lifted the chemise to reach the clasp. Her long legs were creamy in color and graceful. She then strode to the vanity to remove her earrings and the pins from her hair. She hummed as she worked. Flynn didn't recognize the song specifically, but he could tell it would be considered an _oldie. _Probably something her mom played when Lucy was young.

Lucy was absolutely alluring as she let her wavy locks loose. He wanted to run his fingers through them so badly. There was little skin bared to him according to their century's standards, but it was enough to get his blood flowing. Flynn could feel his shaft growing with desire. He adjusted himself in the chair, hoping to hide this fact if she happened to look at him. Almost as if she could hear his thoughts, Lucy turned and looked at him.

"Is there something the matter?" Lucy asked. He could clearly see that she didn't expect him to answer with the truth, or that he would be sarcastic. He decided to tell her the truth while still being vague.

"No, not in the general sense of the word." He hoped it would be a good enough answer, but Flynn knew her better than that. He waited, and wasn't wrong in his assumption.

"So, there is something wrong, but not _wrong_ wrong?"

"Precisely." Flynn tipped his glass to her, a congratulations for grasping the fact he wasn't going to tell her exactly what he was thinking. She huffed in annoyance, serving to make him grin at her. Lucy promptly turned on her heel and strode purposefully toward the bed, giving him a generous view of her lovely backside, and the evocative sway of her hips. He took another sip of whiskey, hoping to distract himself. It didn't work all that well. He could never distract himself from the beauty of Lucy, and he secretly didn't want to.

_She's my hostage, I'm holding her against her will. I need her to defeat Rittenhouse, that's all! She's my hostage, I'm holding her against her will. I need her to defeat Rittenhouse, that's all!! She's my hostage, I'm holding her against her will. I need her to defeat Rittenhouse, that's all!!! _Flynn kept repeating this to himself, once again trying to remind himself why he should mentally keep his distance from her, let alone physically. His body's reaction was hard enough to keep under control. He couldn't deny his desire for her any longer.

Finishing his whiskey, Flynn sat his glass on the table and leaned over to take his shoes and socks off, he hated sleeping with socks on. He figured he could afford to indulge in that luxury, small as it was. Once done, he stretched his legs out and leaned back, getting more comfortable, hoping he could maybe cat-nap throughout the night. He wasn't looking too forward to the stiffness he would feel the next day from being in the chair all night, but he needed to get some rest. He didn't _want _to kill J.P. Morgan and Thomas Edison, but he _had _to. He'd hated killing Abraham Lincoln, and all the others he'd killed since all this started, but it was necessary. All of it was necessary...

Lucy's voice from under the covers pulled Flynn from his dark thoughts. "You're not going to stay in the chair all night, are you?"

That confused Flynn a little. Where was he supposed to go? "I can't very well leave the room, can I? Who knows what havoc you could create all alone. You'd probably end up somehow setting the room on fire, thus sending the whole hotel up in flames." Flynn quipped out. There was a long pause. He was surprised Lucy ignored his snarky comment. Half the reason he was so snarky with Lucy was to see/hear her reaction. He loved how she usually responded.

"That's not what I meant." Lucy replied. "I meant that there's room in the bed for...two." She said this so quietly Flynn was sure he'd misheard her. _She wants _me_ to share the bed with her? That can't be what she said. _Neither Flynn nor Lucy said a word.


	5. What Did I Just Say?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

What Did I Just Say?

Lucy-

_That's not what I meant," Lucy replied. "I meant that there's room in the bed for...two. _

_..._

Lucy wanted to slap herself, or groan at the very least, but she did neither, only bit her tongue. _Did I really just say that?! How could I seriously invite him into the same bed with me? Well, it's not like I'm offering sex, but still..._she thought. She only hoped Flynn wouldn't take it as most hot-blooded men would. She expected a sarcastic quip, but nothing more. She was wholly surprised at his answer, which took a few moments.

"Are...are you sure?" Flynn asked quietly, his voice uncertain.

_I can't exactly take it back now. Ah, well, in for a penny, in for a pound. _Lucy decided she wouldn't retract her invitation. Despite that they were "enemies," and she was his "hostage," she felt bad that he would have to stay in that chair all night. His large frame spilled out of it and it made her uncomfortable just to look at him so he had to be ten times more so. It was a small concession, she felt. _Why can't we both be comfortable? It's not like it means anything else. _She tried to keep her thoughts to the practicality of the situation and not the sensual feelings sharing a bed with him would provoke.

"Yes. You're right that no matter what happens tomorrow, we _all _need to be well rested." Hoping to maybe lighten the mood with a little humor she added, "You can't keep as close an eye on me and prevent my attempt at escape if you've had very little sleep. And it would be grossly unfair of me to have the advantage of more sleep, don't you think?" It worked and Flynn laughed. It wasn't bitter, superior, or gloating, but a true laugh. Lucy liked the deep rumble that came from his chest. It washed over her, causing a shiver along her spine. _Damn him, even his laugh is sexy! _

"I can't deny your reasoning. It would definitely feel nice to stretch out, and an actual mattress would be a nice change." He paused then in a wry tone said, "Being a wanted terrorist doesn't make for the most comfortable accommodations." He stood, took his jacket and vest off, draped them over the back of the chair, and began walking toward the bed, untucking his button up shirt at the same time. He took deliberately slow steps, as if to not spook an animal.

"Neither does three days in 1754 with no supplies. I've never been much for camping, and now I am even less. We were captured by the French and almost killed, Wyatt and I narrowly avoided being burned at the stake, and also responsible for one of the first UFO sightings in Northern America." Lucy grinned at him as he came closer. She became a tad more nervous with every step he took. And Lucy babbled when she was nervous. "That's all your fault, you know?"

"And how do you figure that?" Flynn asked, mirroring her amusement.

"You sent us on that wild goose chase to sabotage the Lifeboat, which was successful, by the way. Rufus displayed his true genius of how he went about repairing it, and Wyatt was almost injected with liquid mercury by a French doctor when we had to pretend he was injured to get some of what Rufus needed." She chuckled at the memory and Flynn joined her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Flynn must've sensed her nerves because he didn't move to get under the covers. "So how did he manage not to?"

"Luckily for us, I speak French, fluently. In between him insulting my intelligence as a woman and my opinion on Wyatt's _injury, _as I'd claimed to have nursing experience, and preparing the needle, I told Wyatt to hit him. One punch and we were out of that tent!" Lucy laughed again. She could now that they hadn't been killed or left to live out their lives during the French and Indian War. _Although, it would've been interesting to see if we lived long enough to witness the American Revolution. _She was sure they would've participated. With her foreknowledge, maybe she could help keep the death toll lower somehow or achieve a faster victory. Not to mention to be present _and _part of America declaring independence, that was every historian's dream!

Flynn growled out, "That doctor was clearly a moron if he couldn't realize how smart you are." His vehemence surprised Lucy. "But I suppose that's to be expected in the 1700s. Women were considered _delicate _creatures and incapable of grasping matters of consequence. Men have almost always loved to lord their _superiority _over _the fairer sex. _Idiots, all of them." Lucy couldn't agree more, and once again, was surprised at his defense of not only her, but all women. _He really is so hard to understand. _

Not for the first time, Lucy felt she was seeing a glimpse of the man Flynn was before Rittenhouse had destroyed his life. She thought he was a good man, just turned angry, desperate, and wanting revenge. She couldn't blame him, either. She just thought he was going about it the wrong way, but apparently that was her fault, especially if it was true she gave him the journal. It still frightened her that she might be responsible for all of this chaos. _Why in the world would I do this? _She had lain awake several nights pondering that very question.

"Lucy, are you sure about this?" Flynn asked again, his voice making it clear he wouldn't be upset if she changed her mind. She could, Lucy thought, but as soon as she thought this, she realized she _wanted _him beside her. It would make it seem that they weren't on opposite sides, each trying to stop the other's actions. For once she desperately wanted to pretend they were _friends. _It didn't make much sense to her, but then again, hardly anything in her life made sense anymore. _Might as well keep with the trend, _she thought wryly.

Realizing that Flynn was waiting for her answer, "Yes, I'm sure," was all Lucy said. Flynn slid beneath the covers and stretched out beside her, careful not to touch her. It was so quiet in the room, all that could be heard was the breathing of the bed's two occupants.


	6. Passion Overrules Sense

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Passion Overrules Sense

Flynn-

Flynn was mentally thanking and cursing every god he could think of, which weren't many due to the fact that most of his blood was now rushing _away _from his brain. Just lying with Lucy only inches away from his right side, her scent enveloping him was intoxicating. _I should've refused, _he thought. The stiffness from the chair was preferable to the hell he was currently in. Or heaven, depending which way you looked at it. He couldn't really figure out which side the scale tipped farther.

He desperately wanted to touch Lucy, to feel her soft skin against his, to taste her lips, hear her whisper his name as he moved inside her, watch her face as she climaxed. _Oh, dear god, _Flynn thought as his pants became _very _restrictive. _What do I do? I'll never fall asleep like this! _For a man his age and with his deadly skill set, he was actually panicking a little. Flynn was at a complete loss what to do. He was just thankful it was dark and Lucy couldn't see what was going on with him. _Small miracles do happen, _he thought.

Like earlier, it was like Lucy could read his mind and knew he was having carnal thoughts of her. "Flynn," she asked a bit timidly.

"Yes?" His voice sounded a bit choked, trying to at least sound _normal. _

"Do you feel that..." she paused, as if searching for the right words. "Feel that spark, that charge in the air...between us?"

Flynn debated whether he should tell the truth. Maybe if he confessed he did, it would frighten her so she would leave it alone, and he could settle down and sleep. "I do." He left his answer to that, waiting for how she would react. He was shocked when she turned to him, putting her hand on his chest. It burned, even through the material of his shirt. He brought his hand up, covering hers. Neither Flynn nor Lucy made to move.

Before Flynn could think better of it and change his mind, he rolled until he faced Lucy, capturing her lips with his. Her gasp revealed her surprise, but it only lasted a moment and then she was kissing him back. _She's kissing me _back! Flynn thought before his mind went blank, instinct taking over. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Lucy startled, but didn't stop him, only wound her own arms around his neck, pulling herself even more snug against him.

_Dear God, what is this maddeningly, brilliant woman doing to me?! _Flynn was absolutely shocked, to say the least, that Lucy was not only kissing him, but that she had allowed him to deepen the kiss _and_ allowed him to pull her closer. Not to mention that _she _seemed to want to be closer still. This action on her part made Flynn make another decision. Hoping that he wasn't pressing his luck, he tentatively touched the tip of his tongue to her upper lip. Thinking this would probably make Lucy change her mind and push him away, he was pleasantly surprised that she didn't, again. She immediately opened her mouth further and caressed his tongue with hers.

Kissing Lucy was like a dream to Flynn, something he _had _been dreaming about for some time now, to be honest. Dreams hardly ever compared to reality, and this reality far surpassed any dream he'd ever had about Lucy, which were many. She was just as eager for his kisses, for his touch, as he was for hers. Possibly more so, if the whimpering noises she began making were any indication. He relished every single one, each one making him feel more confident, bolder.

Flynn rolled onto his back so that Lucy was half draped over his chest. Although he shouldn't be stunned anymore by that point, he was when she moved so that she was laying fully on top of him. Positioned as she was, there was no way she could miss the blatant evidence of his desire for her. In fact, she seemed to not mind in the least, for she subtly ground her hips into him. Flynn groaned, fingers gripping her hips lightly. She responded by cupping his face between her hands and kissing him harder.

When Lucy suddenly pulled away, Flynn was sure she had come to her senses and wanted to stop. He was actually expecting a slap or punch, but was amazed when she started unbuttoning his shirt. _She can't be doing what I think she's doing, right?! _Sure he was hallucinating, he opened his eyes to see Lucy concentrating on her fingers, which weren't shaking or hesitant. Almost as if she could feel his stare, she looked up and met his eyes clearly. There was no guile in them, this wasn't a ruse to take advantage like some women would do. She wanted him, plain and simple. Flynn certainly wasn't going to deny her. He wanted her too badly to even second guess what was happening between them.

Lucy finished with his buttons and pulled the shirt open to expose his chest. For a couple moments she just stared, then slowly laid both of her palms flat over his rib cage. Flynn sucked in a sharp breath, hot fire pokers couldn't have scorched his skin the way Lucy's touch had. She ran her hands up and down his torso, exploring every inch. With each pass lower she came closer and closer to his belt buckle and every time he held his breath. He hadn't exactly let himself think too far ahead of what they were doing. He hoped simultaneously that she would reach the buckle and she wouldn't.

As a man desiring a woman, Flynn very much wanted her to reach it, but as her _enemy, _he knew it would very much complicate their opposing goals. He shouldn't even be considering taking this any further, but he couldn't bring himself to stop her. He decided that no matter what came of it if they continued, he wanted to enjoy it, to not worry about the bigger picture of what was going on with them. He simply wanted to be a man with a beautiful woman, for tonight at least.

Flynn wanted to touch her badly. He lifted his hands toward her, but caught himself, halting his arms in midair, afraid her would alarm her too much. Lucy stopped touching him and grabbed his hands, planting them on her hips. He was so shocked that he didn't move. When he kept still, Lucy took ahold of his hands again, slowly placing them to cover her breasts. The thin material of the chemise was hardly a barrier and didn't prevent him from feeling her nipples harden. She dropped her hands, silently telling him that it was his choice to continue touching her or not. She obviously _wanted _him to touch her or she never would've put his hands there in the first place. Flynn wasn't going to disappoint her.

Gently, so gently, Flynn cupped her breasts, fondling them lightly before brushing his thumbs over her nipples, causing them to stiffen further. Lucy dropped her head back while closing her eyes, moaning quietly. The sound shot straight to Flynn's groin. His shaft twitched in response. He knew she noticed when her eyes shot open. Very subtly, Lucy rotated her hips, rubbing against him. _Oh, god, _he thought as he closed his eyes, fervently wishing there were no clothes separating them, so he could _feel _her.

With her uncanny ability to read his thoughts on this night, Lucy gathered the hem of the chemise, preparing to lift it over her head. Flynn grabbed her wrists, stopping her. He saw the confusion and hurt in her eyes before she looked away in embarrassment. _She thinks I'm rejecting her, _he thought. Quickly wanting to reassure her he was doing _no _such thing, he sat up and captured her lips, wrapping his arms around her. Lucy hesitated only a moment then kissed him back. Their tongues danced together, each still tasting a hint of the whiskey, though the kisses were more potent than the alcohol.

Flynn slid his hands under the garment, trailing his fingers up her back, loving the feeling of her soft skin. Preparing himself, he brought his hands around, cupping her breasts again, this time with no barrier between them. Lucy sighed as she arched her back, pushing herself more fully into the palms of his hands. Wanting to savor the sensation, he gently applied more pressure, rubbing the hard peaks over and over with the pad of his thumbs as he leaned his head down to kiss the crook of her neck. She jumped slightly, but grabbed his arms to steady herself.

**Sorry it took so long to update. The last several days have been pretty hectic. Also, I've edited chapters 1, 2 and 5 to correct a few mistakes and add a couple things if you want to reread them. :)**


	7. Throwing Caution To the Wind

Disclaimer: All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Throwing Caution To the Wind

Lucy-

Flynn's hesitancy only made Lucy feel bolder. Taking his hands and placing them on her breasts was new for her. She usually didn't take the lead in the bedroom, not having much confidence in her sexual prowess. It was different with Flynn though, it felt natural. It felt _right. _That would normally make Lucy question herself, but she forced the habit back, wanting to be in the moment, to let herself just _feel, _to not think_. _

And boy, oh boy, was she feeling! It'd been months since she'd even went to dinner with a man, let alone have sex. She didn't count the exploits of the Lucy engaged to Noah, because she felt it didn't count since she couldn't remember ever being physically involved with the man. As far as she was concenerned, it'd been a _very_ long time and Lucy was positively aching, _everywhere, _for Flynn to touch her. When he didn't move to touch her as she wanted, she took matters into her own hands, or _his, _to be more accurate.

Flynn's large hands were warm as he gently cupped her breasts. It was almost as if the thin material of the chemise didn't exist between them at all. Lucy felt her nipples harden again after he brushed his thumbs over them. She dropped her head back and moaned as she closed her eyes, loving how he touched her. Despite the layers of cloth Lucy felt his member twitch where he was pressed snugly against her. _Oh, my! _she thought as her eyes snapped open. _I don't think my little fantasies are an accurate representation of what I'm in for if that twitch is only the beginning. _Giving into her curiosity a little, Lucy experimentally rolled her hips, hoping to get a better feel of what she suspected. She could feel Flynn was large, guessing he was probably going to be the most endowed partner she'd ever had.

Suddenly very impatient for more, Lucy wanted all barriers between them gone. It completely baffled her, however, when Flynn stopped her from removing her chemise. _Men always want to see...oh_, realization dawned on her then. _He's changed his mind._ Lucy was so embarrassed she couldn't look at him any longer, hoping she wouldn't start crying and humiliate herself further. She was just about to move herself off of him when Flynn bolted upright and then was kissing her again. Very confused now, Lucy almost pulled back to ask him to explain his behavior, but she decided to throw all caution to the wind. _To hell with it_, she thought and returned his kisses fervently. She was suddenly _desperate _to have Flynn inside her.

Flynn's hands slid underneath the chemise, his fingers trailing up her back. His hands were calloused, but not overly rough. She liked the friction against her skin. He brought his hands around and gently cupped her breasts again, no clothing between them this time. Lucy sighed, arching her back. He nipples hardened in his palms, and he rubbed the stiff peaks over and over with the pad of his thumbs. Lucy startled a little when Flynn kissed the crook of her neck. She grabbed his biceps to steady herself.

His arms were so strong, Lucy could feel the hard muscles beneath her hands. She remembered they were from when he'd been holding her at the Hindenburg, but it was different this time. Flynn wasn't threatening her and she wasn't afraid of him now. All she wanted was to be wrapped in his arms, Flynn moving in sync with her, bringing her to an orgasm she desperately wanted/needed. Her core throbbed just at the thought.

As Flynn continued to fondle her breasts and kiss her neck, Lucy pushed his shirt from his shoulders, helping him to shrug out of it. She haplessly tossed it to the floor. Ready to try again, she brought her hands back to the chemise and began to tug it upward. She sighed internally in relief when he didn't try to stop her this time. The chemise joined his shirt and there was silence. Lucy didn't look at Flynn for a few moments, fully aware of just how vulnerable she'd made herself to him now.

"Oh, Lucy, you're so beautiful." Flynn said, absolute truth and a hint of reverence in his voice.

Lucy blushed. It wasn't like she'd never been told she was beautiful by a man before, but Flynn saying it the way he did just now felt different somehow. She didn't know if it was his accent or the way he said her name, or the combination of the two, but whatever it was, it sent jolts of pleasure down her spine. She finally looked at him, he was looking straight back. There was no hesitation this time, only raw desire in his eyes. Lucy was sure he could see the same desire in her eyes. She brought her hands up to cup his face and leaned down slowly, bringing her lips to his, kissing him softly.

Flynn's hands found their way into her hair, his nails lightly scratching her scalp. Lucy shivered at the sensation, her core throbbed again, reminding her how much she wanted him. His member had also grown, now a huge bulge that she was sitting on. _He has to be uncomfortable, _she thought, realizing how tight his pants must be. Wanting to help ease his discomfort, Lucy was about to reach for his belt buckle when she was stopped in her tracks, her mind going blank. Flynn had leaned forward and took her left nipple into his mouth, taking her by absolute surprise.

Lucy moaned as Flynn circled his tongue around the hard peak. His hand came up to caress her other breast. Flynn took his time loving on her before switching to the other, his hand covering the one his mouth had just left. His tongue was hot against her as well as his hand, and she relished the feeling. Lucy took ahold of his shoulders and began grinding herself on his member, wanting more friction. _Yes, _she thought, moving faster, _right there. _She was surprised to already feel an orgasm beginning to build deep within her center.

Lucy gasped when she felt Flynn's fingers slide past the waistband of her drawers, moving down toward her sex. _Oh, please, _she thought, desperate for him to touch her. She stilled her movements, waiting for what felt like an eternity before his fingers were at her opening. She shuddered when he ran his fingertips along her slit, parting her nether lips, finally touching her exactly where she wanted him to. Her desire had been steadily oozing out and Flynn's fingers were coated within seconds. He swirled his index finger around her hard nub, the slippery moisture making it easy for him to circle it over and over.

Lucy was glad she was so aroused. She'd had men try to touch her like this before she was sufficiently wet and she'd had to stop them before her skin became chafed. Chafing down _there _was very uncomfortable. She knew from firsthand experience when she was in college and she'd been too shy to tell the guy to stop. After it'd happened a few times, she had almost not let anyone touch like that again. She was grateful when she'd finally found a guy who had known what he was doing. It was one of the best orgasms she'd had up until then. It also helped that she became a little more assertive and didn't let a guy touch her until she was ready.

Flynn inserted his middle finger into her entrance, sliding it in and out, using his thumb to rub over her nub at the same time. "Mmmm, yes," Lucy moaned out, closing her eyes, surrendering herself to the pleasure he was eliciting from her body. Flynn sped up his pace, her climax building and building until she was pushed over the edge when he pushed down hard on her nub. She went still and unable to hold it in, Lucy shouted, "Ah!" then went limp against him, her forehead resting on his shoulder, his hands holding onto her hips.

It took a few minutes for Lucy's breathing to calm from heavy pants to more or less normal. Flynn didn't try to rush her either. He just let her savor her orgasm and come back down from her high. She appreciated it. She was afraid after such an intense climax that she might be too sensitive for him to enter her right away. Knowing that Flynn's desire had to mirror her own, she was ready to give him his release. _He's certainly earned it, _she thought with a smile. Raising her head, she kissed him, their tongues dancing together again.

Lucy reached for his belt buckle and undid it, pulling the button on his pants free, then unzipping them. She then moved off of him to lay on her back, lifting her hips so that she could remove her drawers, finally naked. Flynn took that as his cue to remove the rest of his own clothes as well. They lay side by side a moment, a sudden shyness coming over both of them. Lucy moved her hand until she found his, squeezing it tightly.

"Flynn," Lucy said softly. He turned his head to look at her, a question in his eyes, silently asking if she truly wanted to do this. She knew she did. Despite the situation they were in, each trying to stop the other concerning history, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she didn't make love with Flynn tonight.

"Please," she whispered.

Apparently that was all Lucy needed to say for Flynn turned on his side and captured her lips once again. He kissed her deeply, moving to cover her body with his, settling himself between her legs. She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach, pulsing with his own desire. He continued kissing her and Lucy brought her hands to the nape of his neck, running her fingers through the fine hairs there. Kissing Flynn was wonderful, but Lucy was ready for more.

"I need you," Lucy murmured against his mouth. "I need you now."


	8. Giving In To Pleasure

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Giving In To Pleasure

Flynn-

Flynn was enraptured. Watching Lucy come apart by his ministrations was the brightest moment in the gloom that had been his world the last few years. She was beautiful, and stunning how she'd given herself over to the pleasure he'd so wanted to give her. He was still honestly a little surprised that she'd allowed him this far. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was real, half unconvinced this wasn't a _very_ detailed, very vivid dream. It wouldn't shock him if he woke up, still in that uncomfortable wooden chair, to realize Lucy had never invited him to share the bed. It would be damned disappointing if that happened to be the case.

Hands resting on Lucy's hips and her forehead on his shoulder, Flynn was marginally more convinced he wasn't dreaming when Lucy raised her head and kissed him. She opened her mouth so he followed suit, her tongue immediately caressing his, tangling together in a familiar rhythm. He would've been content to kiss her until the end of time, but his body was most definitely _not _all right with that notion. Neither was Lucy apparently because her hands found his belt buckle, undoing it, quickly followed by the button and zipper of his pants. He wanted to cry out in protest when she suddenly rolled off of him, but he swiftly realized it was so she could fully undress.

Flynn took the opportunity to completely divest himself of his own clothes. Surely by removing hers it meant Lucy was not going to change her mind. He wouldn't fault her or be angry if she did. He was technically holding her against her will, and hostages usually didn't consent to have sex with their kidnapper. Although, Flynn didn't really think of this as just sex with Lucy. No, to him they would be making love, however irrational a thought that was, and he knew it certainly was irrational. He couldn't explain it, but Lucy made him feel things he hadn't felt since he'd fallen in love with Lorena. He pushed the thought of Lorena away though, the first time since she'd died. As much as he loved and missed her, Lorena didn't belong in his thoughts. Tonight was all Lucy.

Almost as if teenagers again, a shyness permeated the air between them. Flynn found he was actually a bit nervous and wanted to laugh. He definitely wasn't an awkward teenager, but he knew this was something important occurring between him and Lucy, no matter the circumstances surrounding them. He wasn't sure if he should give Lucy the time she seemed to need to continue or if he should take action first. He was relieved when her hand found his, tightly squeezing in a reassuring manner.

"Flynn," Lucy said softly. He turned to look at her, silently questioning her with his eyes if she was sure she wanted do this. He wanted to give her one last chance to change her mind. He never wanted her to regret her decision or feel he'd pressured her in any way, know that she was wholly cognizant of the choice she was making tonight. He wanted her to _want _this with him. She did, because she then whispered, "Please."

It was the most magical word Flynn had heard in years. _Please. _It was all he needed to hear. He rolled onto his side, facing Lucy, and captured her lips. Kissing her deeply, he moved atop her, firmly settling himself between her thighs. His erection, throbbing with desire, pressed into her abdomen. He kissed her and kissed her, incapable of getting enough of her. He became aware of her fingers running through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, feeling slightly erotic.

_"I need you," Lucy murmured against his mouth. "I need you now." _

Flynn wouldn't deny her. _Hell, _he thought, _I can't deny myself any longer! _He kissed his way along her jaw and down to the crook of her neck, making Lucy moan. _She really likes that, _Flynn noted, in case he ever needed that information again. Lucy squirmed as he sucked her skin into his mouth, capitalizing on her distraction to shift himself over her. He took his shaft in hand, guiding himself to her entrance. Instead of tensing like he expected she might, she opened her legs wider, inviting Flynn to make her his.

Gently, so gently, Flynn eased his way inside, slowly sinking into Lucy's hot depths. He shuddered as her inner walls hugged him, her moans reaching into his soul. He had to stop when he was buried to the hilt, and not just for her sake either, but for his as well. Being with Lucy like this was momentous, and Flynn needed a minute to commit this feeling, every detail to memory. He wanted to remember this until the day he died.

Lucy's hands were on his upper arms and she gave them a squeeze, reminding him, not that his body needed it, that they were far from finished. Dropping a quick kiss on her lips, Flynn began to move, slowly at first. Their movements were awkward, but they rapidly found a pleasing rhythm together. She wrapped her lithe legs around his waist, her ankles crossed, heels almost digging into the skin just above his buttocks. He found that he liked it, and actually wouldn't mind if they pressed harder.

With every thrust inside, Lucy's hot, slick walls clenched around his shaft, urging him on. His leisurely pace no longer enough, Flynn quickened his movements. His soft grunts and her quiet moans filled the room. It was some minutes later when he realized he was very close to his climax, but he could tell Lucy wasn't. He needed to remedy that, wanting her to climax again. Flynn shifted so he could bring his hand between them, and began speedily stimulating her nub again.

"Ohhh," Lucy groaned. The sound shot all through his body, settling deep in his core, nearly expediting his climax.

Three thrusts and finger swirls later, Lucy stiffened, her inner muscles spasmed around him. Her only other movement was her fingers contracting, Flynn would find eight long scratches on his back the next day. She shouted his name before her body went limp. Her orgasm triggered his, and he came hard, his release powerful. He emptied himself into her with his own shout of her name, collapsing on top of her. Flynn quickly rolled onto his back, knowing how heavy he was. He took Lucy with him so that she was draped over his torso, their chests rapidly rising and falling against each other.

Breathing almost returned to normal, Lucy spoke, "My god, Flynn, that was...incredible."

Flynn couldn't help it. He swelled with masculine pride, overjoyed he could please his lover. _As if there was any doubt, _he thought, confident, and maybe a tad bit arrogant, in his ability to please a woman sexually. Although, it _had _been some time since he'd had to demonstrate his skill. He almost laughed, but thought better of it, recognizing it would probably send the wrong message to laugh just then, so instead he said, "My thoughts exactly, Lucy."

Flynn tightened his arm around her. His fingers made small circle patterns on her waist, her fingers swirling in his soft chest hair, lulling them both to sleep. "Good night, Flynn," Lucy whispered sleepily, a little while later. He kissed the top of her head, which was nestled just under his chin.

"Good night, Lucy," he whispered back. Flynn closed his eyes and fell into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in almost three years.


	9. Waking to the Unfamiliar

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Waking to the Unfamiliar 

Lucy-

Lucy awoke with a start to a dark room with very little moonlight shining through curtains she didn't recognize, instantly making her aware she was not in her room at home. _Great, _she grumbled to herself, _I have no idea where I am. _A few months ago this fact would've greatly alarmed her, but after her time traveling escapades of late, it hardly phased her. She mentally tried to retrace her steps to help her figure out where she was, but for some reason her brain wasn't cooperating. A fuzziness clouded her mind, her body feeling unexplainably satisfied, and a tiny bit sore in her nether region. _What the hell? _she thought.

It was while Lucy was contemplating all of this information when she became aware there was someone sleeping in the bed next to her. She didn't understand how she'd missed the soft snores coming from behind her when she first woke. She could only attribute it to her mind not working at full capacity. Now she was a little alarmed, as she couldn't remember just _who_ exactly was sharing her bed. She was on her side, facing away from this stranger, and she was afraid of turning over to find out. As slightly an irrational thought as it was, Lucy knew it had more to do with that she might not like who her bed partner ended up being.

For a moment Lucy thought it might be Noah, her technical fiancé. Maybe she'd gotten drunk and he'd finally persuaded her to join him in bed. So far she'd been able to avoid that situation, despite his attempts at physical intimacy. She could clearly see the expression of confusion and disappointment on his face the times he'd tried. She truly felt bad that she no longer allowed him close to her in any sense of the word, but she just didn't know the man, no matter that in his reality they'd known each other for over three years and were engaged.

The curtains billowed from a light breeze through a crack in the window and for some reason this triggered the memories to come rushing back to Lucy all at once. _Oh, my, it's Flynn! _She was surprised by how much this didn't bother her. She knew it should, he technically was considered her _enemy. _Tonight, however, he was her lover, the term making her smile. Closing her eyes, she let the memories and feelings she experienced with him to wash over her, reliving how he'd made her feel. The two orgasms she'd had were the most powerful she could remember having in years.

Hoping to not wake Flynn, Lucy turned slowly and quietly so she could face him. His even breaths confirmed she hadn't disturbed him. There was just enough light in the room that she could make out his handsome features. His expression was softer in sleep, she found she liked it, very much. You would never know he was the same man who'd committed so many horrible things these past several months. Her heart ached for the good man he must've been before his family was murdered. She wished she could've known that man, but of course that was impossible. If Rittenhouse had never destroyed his life, they never would've met. Their deaths was the catalyst that threw their lives onto this path.

Again, Lucy thought on how she was supposedly responsible for this path they were now on. She felt that she had only made Flynn's life worse, if she really gave him that journal, which it looked more and more like she had. Sure, he'd been grieving and angry, but because of her, he was a wanted terrorist and fugitive. He became the man who shot President Lincoln, taken many people important to history out of the timeline long before they should have been, like General Cornwallis. Flynn's actions had made Amy disappear, sorrow filling her heart anew as she remembered this, even though she ever forgot. She'd forgiven Flynn for it, knowing it hadn't been intentional. It'd taken a long time for her to let go of her anger toward him for this, but she couldn't stay angry with him the more she'd learned of his life. It had been hard, but it was unhealthy to hold onto it and let it fester, letting it slowly eat at her soul.

Lucy's emotions were a jumbled mess, she realized as she lay there staring at Flynn as he slept. On the one hand, she knew she never should've let this happen, despite also knowing she'd never regret it. On the other, she couldn't be happier Flynn had proven tonight he wasn't completely the man everyone thought he was. In her heart she knew this didn't excuse his actions, but it made him more human to her, not a criminal who deserved a bullet instead of a trial. What she wanted more than anything at that moment was someone to talk to about what she was feeling in regards for Flynn and the whole situation. The only person she could even imagine talking to was Amy, but she couldn't, and there was no one else.

Never in a million years could Lucy talk about this with another person because there was no one. Her mother was out of the question, since this would mean she'd have to tell her mother _everything_, the time travel and all of it, and she couldn't do that with national security reasons, the NDA she'd signed, etc. Plus, she doubted very much her mother would be anything other than judgemental, and that definitely wouldn't be helpful. It wasn't an option to talk about this with Agent Christopher, Wyatt, Rufus, Jiya, or Mason either. She didn't know Mason at all and didn't feel comfortable enough to have a discussion like this with Jiya, although she liked her very much. And the other three would _never _understand. Not to mention how disappointed Agent Christopher would be. Rufus would be indignant, and probably a little judgmental as well. And Wyatt, she cringed at the thought of his reaction, Wyatt would hate her forever. No, this would be one secret she could never tell.

Lucy didn't want to lose her new friends, but she hated the idea at the same time that this would always put her at odds with Flynn. That no matter how her feelings had changed in some ways toward him, she could never condone his past deeds, and would always try to stop future ones. It worried her what tomorrow would bring, for once again, they would be on opposing sides. She hoped Flynn didn't expect her to suddenly switch sides now that they'd slept together. She couldn't do that, because that just wasn't who she was. Her mission would still be the same; stopping Flynn. God only knew what destructive acts were planned for the next day, and she hated just how many had already taken place, the changes they'd been unable to prevent.

Feeling morose from her heavy thoughts, Lucy told herself to snap out of it. She had to just wait and see what tomorrow would bring, there was no use agonizing over the possibilities all night and making herself miserable. She brought her focus back to the present and looked over Flynn's face. Again, she thought on how handsome he was, and how much she'd tried to deny it. In her own mind she could confess it. She smiled to herself, no one ever had to know how attracted to Flynn she was. Or how much she liked it when he said her name, that sexy Croation accent and the way his voice rumbled deeply from his chest. It made her body tingle just from the thought.

_Flynn had made my body _more _than tingle a while ago, _Lucy thought, a delicious thrill zinging through her body as she remembered the heights of bliss he'd taken her to. Twice! Lucy badly wanted to touch him again so she lifted her hand and softly ran her fingertips from his brow to his chin. When he didn't react, Lucy was disappointed he was such a sound sleeper. She wouldn't have minded at all if it had woken him, curious if it would lead to another round_, _so to speak. Deciding she should try and get some more sleep, she closed her eyes and willed her body to settle down.

"You shouldn't tease a man like that, Lucy," came Flynn's deep, sleep-filled voice.


	10. Late Night Musings

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Late Night Musings

Flynn-

Unbeknownst to Lucy, Flynn did wake up when she'd turned over, but when she stayed silent and still, he decided to pretend to still be sleeping. She clearly had something on her mind, and Flynn would leave her to her thoughts. If she wanted to talk or _other _things, then she would let him know. Well, maybe _this _Lucy wouldn't. The one from the journal would, he knew that much. Over the next couple of years Lucy would be put through so much shit and so much heartbreak she eventually adopted the personality of a battle-hardened soldier, unafraid to say what she thought, or care how it would come across.

Flynn truly hoped Lucy wouldn't become the hard, bitter woman from the latter chapters of her journal. He knew he shouldn't interfere too much with the progression of the future, but damn, if he didn't want to stop some of the more terrible things that were going to happen to her. If he could get away with killing that bitch of a woman who called herself Lucy's mother, he would in a heartbeat. But it was too soon, and Lucy would never understand. Even if he made sure she would never find out it was him, he would still feel too much guilt. Certainly not for the sake of Carol Preston, she more than deserved an extremely slow, painful death, but for the heartache it would cause Lucy now.

There had been several nights of late, especially after having more and more contact with Lucy, that he spent dreaming of ways to change the future. His heart ached for her as he thought of all the awful situations which awaited her. And it wasn't just Carol he'd gladly take care of. Wyatt Logan was another one Flynn wished he could keep from hurting Lucy, although he understood the why, and Logan's perspective, it still hurt Lucy. Flynn knew it didn't make sense that he wanted to protect Lucy so much, but he did. The more time that went on, especially after tonight, the more dear she became to him. At first, Lucy was a means to an end; getting his family back. It was no longer that simple. He tried not to think about it too often however, as it only clouded his mind and distracted him from his goals.

Lost in his own thoughts, Flynn didn't notice Lucy had moved until her fingertips ran lightly down the side of his face. Not moving, he waited to see what her next move would be. He was honestly disappointed she did nothing else, but he had to remember that this Lucy didn't have much confidence in herself. He didn't want to make her feel more self-conscious so he decided a little humor was the best course of action. "You shouldn't tease a man like that, Lucy," he said, voice low, feigning as if he'd just woken.

"Oh, I—I thought you were still asleep," she said hesitantly.

"Obviously." Flynn opened his eyes to see hers already open. She had a look that suggested she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have. He almost laughed at how adorable she was. Instead he said, "Have you been awake long?" He knew the answer, but he was curious what she would say.

"No, not really." That was true, it really hadn't been a very long time. At least, he didn't think she'd been up long.

"And what have you been doing?"

"Just thinking." Flynn waited to see if Lucy would elaborate. She didn't.

"Thinking about what?"

"Just...things." Lucy didn't quite pull off the air of nonchalance Flynn was sure she'd been aiming for. He smiled, she really couldn't lie all that well. Not yet, at least. His smile died at that thought.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Maybe he could help if there was something weighing on her mind, if he could get her to talk to him.

"Not really." There was a pause. Suddenly Lucy grabbed his arm in alarm, startling Flynn. "Oh, my god!"

"What is it?" He asked. _What's wrong?! _

"I just—thought of—what if—" Lucy began to stumble over her words.

"Thought of what?" _What on earth could have her so alarmed and flustered? _

"When I came back from that first trip and things were—different, do you think that affected my...my birth control?" Flynn could see in the moonlight that Lucy flushed absolutely scarlet. "What if it did? That means that we—there wasn't any protection. And we—oh—oh, my god." She closed her eyes, panic lacing every word.

Flynn had to admit that she had a point. He couldn't believe that for a man of his age and experience, the last thing on his mind had been protection. _Just like some too eager teenager, _he thought, chastising himself. Then the rational part of his brain kicked in and his only thought was to calm Lucy. "What kind of birth control were you on?" he asked.

"It was an IUD. I had it implanted a couple of years ago at my mother's insistence. She said the last thing I needed at the time was an unplanned pregnancy since I was on track for tenure, as if there'd been so _many _opportunities to get pregnant in the first place." She said the last words in a wry tone.

Flynn was momentarily angry with Carol Preston again. He hated how much control she exerted over Lucy, but Lucy also allowed her to. She was so brow beaten though, that it was easier for Lucy to go along with her than to fight against Carol's wishes. That wasn't the issue right now, however. "Do you think you don't have it anymore? Because of the changes?" he asked.

"Well, yes and no." She was quiet a few moments so Flynn let her gather her thoughts. "I wonder if maybe mom didn't insist on the IUD since I woud've been with Noah at the time I had it placed. Maybe she, or I, that still makes my head hurt sometimes, wanted a family sooner rather than later so I didn't get it." Sensible Lucy was beginning to reappear. "But I wonder if any of that matters at all though."

Flynn didn't understand. "How do you mean?"

"Well," she began in what Flynn recognized as her "lecture" voice, "I had my locket with Amy's picture still in it, the only one in existence now, when we came back from 1937. Mason said it was because we were traveling through time when the changes took place to erase Amy, so it was somehow protected. I don't remember the exact words he used or called the theory, and I didn't understand his explanation all that well. A scientist I am not," she laughed a little at that.

"Okay, so what does that mean?" Flynn wasn't sure how that applied yet.

"So I came home engaged, right?" she asked.

"Right." Flynn answered, hating she was engaged to that jackass doctor.

"Before we left for Vegas, Noah gave me the ring. I told him I must've taken it off and forgotten about it, when really _I'd _never physically had the ring to begin with."

"And...?"

"Before the first trip, I wasn't engaged and I had the IUD. I came back engaged, but I didn't have the ring." It finally clicked for Flynn what she was trying say.

"So you think that since you were in the Lifeboat when those changes took place as well, and you weren't given the ring _until_ you came back, your body is the original, so to speak, and you do have the device." _God, this woman is brilliant, _Flynn thought.

"Yes, exactly." Lucy said with the pride of a professor when a student grasped what she was teaching. Flynn smiled at her, which Lucy returned.

"Now that that's no longer a worrisome thought, do you think you can go back to sleep? We still have a few hours before we need to be up."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea." Lucy leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. Flynn wanted to kiss her again, thinking, _To hell with more sleep_, but Lucy turned away from him. He was surprised when she snuggled her back against him, and then reached for his hand, pulling until his arm was wrapped around her. She held onto his hand, nestling it just under her soft breasts. Flynn settled himself more comfortably around her. The top of Lucy's head was level with his chin, so he rested against her. He inhaled the scent of her shampoo and her subtle perfume, letting them surround him, and was soon fast asleep once more.


	11. Safe Haven

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Sorry it's taken a bit longer than usual to update. I've been having some health issues and in between the doctor's appointments and daily life, it's been a bit difficult to write. Hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

Safe Haven

Flynn-

There was sunlight flooding through the small hotel windows when Flynn woke. He'd woken on his own, and since he couldn't see a clock, he had no idea what time it was. It was clearly before eight o'clock as Carl had not been knocking on the door. He wondered how much longer until Carl did come. It was completely illogical, but Flynn would've been happy to never leave the hotel room. Inside the little room was a safe haven from the world that awaited them. A world of loss, pain, anger, and danger, of Rittenhouse and Homeland Security and all of the other shit he didn't want to face anymore.

For the first time since Lorena and Iris had died, Flynn wanted to say to hell with Rittenhouse. And he knew it was because of the beautiful, brunette woman still sleeping cocooned against him. The sunlight of the new day bespoke that their unspoken truce of the night before was no longer in effect. Lucy and Flynn would once again be opposing each other and Flynn hated it was over. It had been nice to have someone to have a genuine conversation with, even if it hadn't been long ones or that they'd barely scratched the surface of truly getting to know each other. Flynn also regretted that it had mainly been Lucy who had shared more of her life, but they both knew he didn't want to talk about his family. Plus, there hadn't been much opportunity for them to talk about him anyway.

Lucy's breaths were soft and slow. Flynn could feel each one as his hand was still nestled under her breasts. Her warmth permeated his entire body, seeping into his bones, making him feel so content. He was glad that neither of them had moved away from the other as they'd slept. He enjoyed waking up with his body pressed against hers. He liked the contact with another human being in the first place, something he'd dearly missed over the last couple of years. It made him feel like he hadn't lost _all _of his humanity, and it was all because of Lucy Preston. His chest swelled with an emotion he was too scared to name so he pushed it firmly away, determined to forget all about it.

To distract himself, Flynn began thinking about what this day might bring, and more specifically, what methods Lucy would use to stop him today. He was always stunned and amazed at her ingenuity. He didn't say she was brilliant for nothing. Despite having foreknowledge, Lucy and her team always managed to undermine his plans, one way or another, and almost always by Lucy's intelligent mind. He chuckled inwardly at how frustrating it was, especially after those first few trips. It still was, but he'd gotten used to it by now, as annoying as it still was. He couldn't blame her on the last trip for wanting to keep John Rittenhouse safe from him, he _was_ only a child after all. _I'd been so close though! _he couldn't help but to think bitterly.

It shouldn't have anymore, but it still surprised Flynn sometimes that Lucy was able to defeat him. On so many of these trips to the past he was sure he'd thought of every way they might be able to circumvent his plans, but they always managed to derail his best ideas of how to succeed. Ever since Future Lucy had given him the journal he'd studied it diligently. He not only had it memorized by now, but had also come to regard it as one might a sacred religious text, such as the Holy Bible or Qu'ran. It was strange how he _followed _the guidance of the journal, even though it pretty much guaranteed failure. Flynn knew it didn't make any kind of sense, but it was much too late now to reconsider his actions. He was too far down the rabbit hole, dragging everyone else with him.

Flynn thought on how seriously he'd always taken the journal too. It had been so important that Lucy had risked her life to visit a time when she already existed, a potentially fatal trip, just to give it to him. He remembered how quickly it had affected her. When it started happening again and again, but she pressed on, fighting through the obvious pain it caused her, he'd actually begun to worry, even though he'd never before met her in his life. Flynn also remembered how furious he was, after reading through the journal the first time, at the strange woman claiming to be from the future who had given him a book spelling out how he failed Lorena and Iris over and over again.

He'd quickly realized after the trip to 1937 that the Lucy who had given him the journal and the Lucy who had looked at him with absolute fear in her eyes were very far from being the same woman. Of course she wouldn't be, but it was a bizarre enough situation as it was and he hadn't been able to not make the comparison. He'd displayed an attitude of calm and control then, but he'd been the complete opposite on the inside. However, it seemed to get better with every trip, but also worse at the same time. Better because he already had an idea of what to expect and a clear plan of what he wanted to accomplish and worse because it never worked! He became more frustrated with every foiled plan by Lucy and her team.

Not for the first time, Flynn wondered just what it was Lucy from the future wanted to accomplish by giving him the journal, what it was she wanted to change. Or quite possibly keep the same? He couldn't figure it out and had spent thousands of hours pondering it. The journal didn't say, so he was left to guessing her reasons. Again, he wondered if it was something bad she wanted to change, like he did, or if it was something good she wanted to protect? Her physical appearance had been the same as when he'd first seen her during her lecture at Stanford. She was dressed well, put together as she always was, but there was no mistaking the pain in her eyes. No amount of expensive clothes or makeup could mask that.

It was that pain in Lucy's eyes that had made him worry about her when she began showing the symptoms of traveling back into her own timeline, as he knew what it was now. Flynn had been bound and determined to ignore the woman who had sat beside him at the bar in São Paulo, and when she'd first tried to talk to him. It wasn't until she'd said his name and began talking about Rittenhouse that he'd started paying attention. And then he thought she'd been sent to kill him, Rittenhouse probably thinking, or hoping, he would be hesitant to eliminate the threat if she had a pretty face. Lucy was definitely a pretty face, but she was also so much _more _than that. She was someone he wanted to protect from every bad thing that could and would happen to her, including himself.

Most of all Flynn wanted to protect Lucy from Carol Preston. He hated that woman with a passion and he'd never even met her. His mind revisited the conversations from the night before, focusing on the parts about her mother. He still very much wanted to kill Carol Preston and imagined he always would. She didn't deserve Lucy for a daughter, nor Amy for that matter, even if Carol didn't remember her. Flynn thanked whatever god or gods there might be that Lucy had turned out nothing like her mother. Not for the lack of trying on Carol's part though. He knew that it was largely due to the influence of Henry Wallace, the man Lucy had grown up believing was her biological father, but was only her step-father, and Amy. Flynn felt his heart give a small lurch for how much Lucy felt Amy's absence. Guilt plagued him over his part in her disappearance from existence. It was one thing he dearly wished he could've kept from happening.

What Lucy had written of Amy, it was clear that Carol had always passed her over in favor of Lucy. Carol didn't care what Amy did as long as Lucy did exactly what she'd outlined her for; to follow in her footsteps at Stanford and her plans for later. The pressure had been heaped so high upon Lucy that Flynn was amazed that Lucy hadn't tried to rebel sooner than she had. He was glad she'd tried to get away from Carol. He just wished she'd been successful. If she had, it was in the realm of chance that none of this would've ever happened, Flynn had mused several times. Maybe it somehow could've altered the course of all of their lives and he'd never would've stumbled upon Rittenhouse, never would've lost his family, become a wanted _terrorist, _kill so _many_ people...

But, of course, if his life hadn't been on this path Flynn never would've met Lucy, and he hated the idea of Lucy Preston _not _being in his life...

_I can't think like that! _Flynn thought, mentally shaking himself. This _is what _is_, and that's _all_ that matters, what I have to concentrate on! _

Hoping to take his mind away from the possibility of a different life, one without Rittenhouse destroying it, Flynn began to fantasize about how he would make Carol Preston's life miserable. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about this and was quite proud of how creative he was sometimes. He smiled, thinking this time he might remove some body parts, one at a time. He was contemplating whether he should start with the toes or fingers first, weighing the pros and cons. Toes were always good to remove because they provided balance. Removing one, especially the big toe, was the most difficult to recover from. But that was the downside too, a person _could_ recover, learn how to walk again and all that.

Fingers were a different story. A human needed fingers for everything! And Carol also had a side career as an author. She and Lucy had a few books they'd collaborated together on, and she had many more planned for the future. She wouldn't be able to write or type without fingers! That thought made Flynn smile, picturing Carol as she raged at her _disability_. Still, it could be overcome as well. Prosthetic limbs had become very advanced in the last few years. It was quite possible she could be fitted with robotic hands and would function normally again. Or she could always dictate, as if she didn't enough already, to an assistant or Lucy and her goals would still be accomplished. Carol was just as stubborn as her daughter. _It would at least greatly annoy her, _Flynn thought, satisfied with this morning's idea. It'd been a new one, after all.

Flynn's thoughts were interrupted as Lucy began to stir. At first she just flexed her arms and legs a little while taking a deep breath. Her eyes slowly blinked open, taking in her surroundings. She smiled, squeezed his hand and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning," Flynn said as Lucy turned to face him. He hoped he wouldn't see regret in her eyes, and was relieved he didn't when she brought her eyes to his. They were clear, and, if he dared to think it, content.

Lucy smiled again and Flynn reciprocated. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"I did. I was very comfortable." Lucy's cheeks colored a little as she said this, but Flynn didn't comment on it. He did wonder exactly _how_ Lucy meant she was comfortable. In the physical sense of a comfortable bed or the comfort of being in his arms? He suspected he knew the answer, but he didn't want to push the issue and make things possibly uncomfortable between them. The return to their harsh reality would come knocking, quite literally, soon enough. He would dearly miss the easy, friendship-like atmosphere which currently surrounded them. _I'm afraid it can't be helped, _he thought sadly.

**—**

**I know this chapter was all just inner thoughts and such until the end, but I hope you don't mind. I think it's good to see some of what's going on in Flynn's or Lucy's head. I promise there will be more talking and getting-to-know-each-other moments between Flynn and Lucy before things start rolling like in the episode. Thanks for reading! :)**


	12. Bittersweet Dreams

Disclaimer: I own nothing. A belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Bittersweet Dreams

Lucy-

Lucy was dreaming, but what was strange was that she knew she was dreaming. It was almost as if she were watching TV, able to watch the memories from the sideline, and internally comment on them. Her dream was pleasant, the most wonderful dream she'd had in months. It was of her childhood; her, Amy and her dad, or the man she'd grown up thinking was her dad. She didn't want to wake up because she was so happy to see them, her heart ached from how much she missed them both.

Watching her dad play with her and Amy was bittersweet. It felt like eons had passed since she was as happy as the little girl she was watching. A sudden anger came over Lucy as she watched her dad tickle Amy. The anger wasn't because of watching them, but the reminder that her mother had lied to her her entire life. Despite the circumstances between her mom and Benjamin Cahill, her mom had had no right to keep the truth from her. In the original timeline when she'd thought Henry Wallace was her dad, or this new one where she apparently grew up where her mom was a single parent. It wasn't right or fair!

Lucy decided she needed to let go of her anger, at least for the time being. She had no idea how much longer this wonderfully strange "dream" was going to last and she wanted to soak up every second she could of her dad, she would always feel Henry Wallace was her dad, regardless of which timeline, and Amy. A feeling of nostalgia swept over her at the scene she was watching, remembering that particular day. The three of them were having a picnic in the backyard. Her mom was inside the house working on research for a book, as was her wont to do on most Sunday afternoons. It was okay though that she hadn't joined them, they were having a blast without her.

The two little girls giggled uncontrollably as their dad finally caught them at the same time during their game of tag. He wrapped an arm around each girl from behind and swung them around in a circle until they were both shrieking with delight. A tear ran down Lucy's cheek, a happy tear mixed with some sadness. She felt joy fill her soul. It soon faded however. The _noise _had distracted Carol and if there was one thing Carol Preston couldn't abide, it was interruptions in her _important _work. She stormed outside, berating all three of them, as if they'd done something wrong by having fun.

Lucy's smiled faded. She realized just how many times this had happened as she was growing up. Her mom was always more focused on her work than she really was on her family. That's why her and Amy had been so devastated when their dad had died. He'd been the one to pay more attention to them. Her mom had become more attentive to her when she'd became a little older, but it was only to push her in her schoolwork. Amy had been allowed to be a free spirit. Lucy had always been jealous of Amy's freedom, but she'd never let it get in the way of their sisterly relationship. And despite how much more their mom seemed to care about Lucy's _success, _Amy had never resented her, she had become her champion, her greatest ally, even though she was the younger sister. Especially after their mom had gotten sick, Amy had been pushing Lucy to find and follow her own dream, not what their mom had planned for her.

The images before Lucy began to fade away and she thought she must be waking up. Sure enough, a few moments later, she became aware she was lying in a bed. She wasn't ready to open her eyes yet so she just stretched her arms and legs a bit. She remembered going to sleep in the same position she was in, and she didn't usually stay that way, so she was a bit stiff. Opening her eyes she looked around the quaint hotel room. It was modest and she liked the simplicity of the decor. It was just her style.

Not sure how, Lucy could tell Flynn was awake, despite the fact she was facing away from him. Happiness infused her entire being, content in the place she currently found herself and thinking about how wonderful last night had been. She smiled, liking how he was still pressed against her, his arm around her, her hand atop his. She squeezed it and said, "Good morning."

Lucy turned to face him as Flynn replied, "Good morning." She could tell from his timidity that he was nervous, although he tried to hide it, and it was something very out of character for him. She reasoned he was worried how she felt about what had happened the night before. She wanted to make sure he knew she wasn't sorry so she smiled. She was glad when he smiled back. "Did you sleep well?" he solicitously asked.

"I did. I was very comfortable." Lucy could feel her cheeks burn a little from embarrassment. She didn't elaborate on what type of _comfortable _she meant. Flynn was an intelligent man and he also knew her well, better than she liked most of the time, and she knew he would figure out her meaning. It embarrassed her some, but didn't want to dwell on it. There was no use in it, and she wanted to enjoy these peaceful moments with Flynn. She didn't know what time it was, but she figured Carl would be there soon, judging from how much sunlight filled the room. The thought saddened her. She didn't want to go back to the real world, the one where they were trying to outmaneuver the other.

_Shake it off, Lucy, enjoy the time you have! _she told herself. _Carpe diem* _as they say. She brought her hand up to run her fingers through the fringe of his bangs, pushing them away from his forehead, something she'd denied wanting to do for a long time now. Flynn closed his eyes and sighed, clearly enjoying her touch.

"Flynn," Lucy said quietly.

"Hmmm?" Was all that rumbled deep from Flynn's chest.

"Tell me something about yourself." Flynn opened his eyes at her request. They were guarded and she could sense he was about to emotionally pull himself away from her. Hoping to prevent it, Lucy quickly said, "It doesn't have to be some big, dark secret or something you've never told anyone. Just something that you would like for me to know about you I wouldn't otherwise have an opportunity to find out." She mentally crossed her fingers, hoping he wouldn't close himself off from her.

It must've worked because Lucy saw Flynn's relief as he sighed again. She hid hers, waiting for what he would say.

...

Carpe diem is Latin for "seize the day."


	13. Baby Steps

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Baby Steps

Lucy-

Lucy waited, telling herself not to hold her breath, for Flynn to respond to her request that he tell her something about himself. She didn't want to know some secret or was deviously trying to wrangle his plans from him, she just wanted to know him a little better. Learn something about the man, not the _wanted terrorist _rampaging through time.

"Is there anything particular you would like to know?" Flynn asked, his question not quite as guarded as she would've usually expected from him.

"No, not really." Lucy replied. "Well, now that I think about it...tell me a happy memory, something with your mom."

Flynn frowned. "Why her?"

Lucy averted her eyes. "Wyatt told me what you told your mom after you saved your half brother; how you could remember there was always an underlining of sadness to her from the loss of her first husband and then him. Gabriel was his name, yes?"

"I...yes, that's his name." Flynn said softly. It was clear he was uncomfortable that not only had Wyatt heard what he'd said to his mom, but that Lucy also knew. Lucy was glad she knew though. It was just one more thing that spoke of Flynn's humanity, showed he was a normal man, wanting to make life better for someone he clearly loved very much. It proved he wasn't a completely evil man.

Flynn didn't say anything for several moments. When the silence started to become oppressive, Lucy decided she didn't need to know anything about his mom if it was going to cause this uncomfortableness between them. She wasn't ready to break the truce and connection between them yet.

"It's all right. You don't have to." Lucy paused, looking down. She didn't want Flynn to see the tears gathering in her eyes. _So stupid, Lucy! _she berated herself. It should have been obvious this was a subject he wouldn't want to talk to her about. She wanted to run away, hating that she'd broken their connection anyway with her stupidity.

"Lucy," Flynn said, his voice quiet.

Lucy couldn't look at him though. She was humiliated and didn't want him to see the tears she refused, from sheer determination, to let go of. She also didn't want him to see that she was hurt that he didn't want to share anything with her. It was obvious she'd misjudged whatever it was between them, that maybe to Flynn last night _had_ been just sex and nothing more. _Oh, god, _she thought, _I'm so stupid to think it had been something it wasn't. _Lucy was suddenly fervently wishing that Carl would pound on the door, or that the floor would open up and she could fall through it before Flynn could see how humiliated and hurt she was. _How ridiculous he'll think I am!_

It startled Lucy when Flynn cupped her cheek. "Please look at me, Lucy." He said, his voice pleading, a tone she thought she'd never hear from Flynn's lips. Lucy tried to steel herself so Flynn wouldn't be able to see her emotions, and looked up. His expression was pained, his eyes begging her for understanding.

"Lucy, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She couldn't help the slight blush from staining her cheeks, embarrassed Flynn knew what she was feeling, although she shouldn't be surprised. "It's not that I don't want to tell you anything...it just took me by surprise. I'm not used to talking about myself in this way, I haven't for a long time."

_No, he wouldn't be, _Lucy thought. She supposed that the man Flynn was before his family's death wouldn't have had much trouble talking about himself, at least with someone he knew and who wasn't just an acquaintance. She wanted to believe that after last night that they were more than acquaintances. Perhaps not exactly friends, but she no longer thought of him as her absolute enemy. So that left them somewhere in the middle, and she was okay with that, even if her teammates and Agent Christopher wouldn't understand. She knew it was a strange situation, but alas, it was where they found themselves.

Hoping to bridge the awkward gap between them Lucy gave Flynn a tentative smile. "I honestly didn't mean to put you on the spot or anything. It's just..." she trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

"It's just what?" Flynn prompted, tone neutral.

Lucy looked him in the eyes. "I'm not going to lie, Flynn. That first time we met, you scared the hell out of me." Flynn flinched, but said nothing. "It wasn't just because you ended up holding a knife to my throat," Flynn's face reflected the sorrow he felt for causing the terror he knew she'd felt during that first mission, especially in those moments. "But not _just _because of that. It was everything. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I mean, how could I?" Her question was rhetorical of course, but her tone still conveyed the bewildered woman she'd been since Homeland Security had knocked on her door all those months ago. Flynn smiled at that, knowing exactly how she felt on that front. He didn't say a word, however, letting Lucy continue.

"I'll admit that I believed Agent Christopher when she said that you needed to be stopped at all costs. After that first trip and...and Amy, I was all on board. I _had _to preserve history. But that's also not entirely why I was so frightened of you. When you said that we would be 'quite the team one day' and that it was _my _journal you were following, and well, that was absolutely terrifying to me. Why would I, a historian for crying out loud, want to help you destroy life as we know it?" Lucy took a breath. It worried her that Flynn didn't say anything. She knew he _was _sorry for his terrible deeds, but he also wasn't going to apologize either. He was fighting to get his family back, just like she was fighting for Amy, they both just had different ways of going about it.

It was Lucy's turn to beg Flynn to look at her. When he finally raised his eyes to hers, she cupped his cheek this time. "Flynn, I _know _that you are _not _a monster." His eyes widened at her statement. "While I can admit I initially agreed with Agent Christopher and Wyatt to stop you by any means necessary, I can also admit when I'm _wrong. _And I..._we_ are all wrong about you. I understand that now." Her eyes and voice conveyed so much compassion and sympathy that she was sure Flynn's eyes were a bit watery, but after he blinked his eyes were clear. She thought that she had maybe been mistaken.

"So, by asking about your mom, I was asking about the man you were before Rittenhouse destroyed your life, the _good _man I know is still inside of you, the man underneath all that rage and sorrow." Lucy didn't say anything else. If Flynn didn't realize she truly meant everything she'd just said, and wouldn't open up to her, she would let it go. She didn't want to push him, it wasn't worth it. Flynn was silent far longer than she'd expected him to be. His brow was furrowed and she could tell he was struggling inside with his decision. She understood it would make him feel vulnerable, and he didn't want anyone to see that he had his own weaknesses, just like everyone else. Only, in what he was doing, he couldn't really afford to be open with other people.

Lucy sighed, telling herself to accept the situation as it was and to enjoy the quiet before Flynn's henchman came to get them, whenever that would be. She wasn't looking forward to his rudeness again. She then wondered if maybe Flynn would go back to his flippant, dismissive attitude towards her. She hoped not, but wouldn't hold her breath. Even if he might not truly mean it, he wouldn't want to show a soft spot for her. _Well, I'd better brace myself for the insults I'm sure will be hurled upon me today. _Lucy wished she could just go back to sleep, back to dreams of her dad and Amy again.

Flynn cleared his throat, as if nervously about to begin a speech. Lucy looked up at him in surprise. Her breath bated, she thought to herself, _Is he really going to open up to me?_ Hope bubbled in her chest, but she schooled her expression though, not wanting to seem overeager and cause him to clam up again. _Baby steps, Lucy. He'll talk when/if he wants to. _So she waited and waited...

Flynn finally opened his mouth to speak.

...

Sorry to leave it on such a cliffhanger like that but I promise there will be more soon! :P


	14. Happy Memories and Bitter Truths

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Happy Memories and Bitter Truths

Flynn-

Flynn was speechlessly dumbfounded. He knew Lucy was an amazing woman, had known before these trips through time began. Now, though, Flynn was practically knocked off of his feet, which didn't happen very often with someone of his skill, with how utterly magnificent she was. He didn't think he'd ever understand how she could be so forgiving, so compassionate, and so...loving. The next several years are going to take their toll on her and she eventually becomes the hardened woman in the latter part of her journal, but it was only to protect herself. Flynn could understand that only all too well.

_How could she not think I'm a monster?!? I shot Abraham Lincoln no less than ten-feet away from her. He was her idol, the man she admired most from history. How is that right there, excluding everything else I've done, not enough to condemn me in her eyes forever? _Lucy was truly an anomaly amongst the human race. He'd never met, and he expected he'd never meet anyone in the future, as good or forgiving as Lucy Preston. She shined with the brilliance of the sun in his dark world.

Flynn realized that he'd been quiet a long time and that Lucy was waiting for him to speak, if he _was_ going to speak. He decided she deserved something real from him.

Clearing his throat, Flynn was trying to think of what to tell her. He suddenly felt like he was back in school in front of the classroom for a presentation. He'd never liked doing that sort of thing and that hadn't changed, but this was for Lucy. He racked his brain for a happy memory, but not just _any _happy memory, it needed to be special. Finally his mind reminded him of the prefect time to tell her about.

"I was around four or five years old, I believe," Flynn began, his brow furrowed as he delved into his mind for the details of that particular day. "It was summertime and she took me to the park one day after work. We did that often, I think because it reminded her of Gabriel." Sadness filled his tone, sadness for his mother's loss, and the sadness of knowing he would never have the memories of growing up with him or how different his mother would've been without his death always hanging over her.

"I was trying to impress everyone at the park with my skill of the monkey bars when I fell and broke my left arm. Now, being a man as I was at that age," he smiled at Lucy when she interrupted by laughing, he couldn't help it, her joy was infectious. "I tried to pretend that I wasn't bothered, but I wasn't able to hide the few tears that fell down my cheeks. Before my mother could get to me, a man and his dog came running up to where I was sitting. He was there with his son, and he also happened to be a doctor."

"That sounds lucky," Lucy said, the amusement evident in her voice. Flynn chuckled. It definitely had been his lucky day, but that was later in the story.

"Yes, it certainly was. He splinted my arm at the park and took us straight away to the hospital where he worked. I was in a cast and thankfully medicated before we knew it. My mother was grateful it was done so quickly, and I was grateful for the painkillers, my masculine facade had been fading fast in the wake of the pain. It was a level of pain I'd never experienced up to that point in my life."

"Well, I should hope so, being as young as you were!" Lucy's outrage at the fact children should not experience great pain, pain that was not of a natural occurrence at least, endeared her to Flynn all the more. He smiled at her, loving how so utterly good hearted she was. "So your day at the park ended in a broken arm and your first high from prescription drugs, forgive me, but I'm not sure how I understand that's exactly one of your happiest memories with your mother."

"It was what happened after I was fixed up that made it happy, Lucy. Sometimes the happy part doesn't come until after a little pain...or a lot of pain," Flynn reworded quickly at the raised eyebrow of Lucy. "It wasn't just my lucky day because I broke my arm at the same time a doctor was at the park, but the fact that his wife had a hobby of dog breeding." Flynn waited to see if she would fill in the blank. He wasn't disappointed.

"So...you're saying you went home with a cast _and _a dog?" Lucy asked.

Flynn grinned at her. "Precisely. The doctor was taking us back to our car at the park and I got to sit in the backseat with his dog, Boris. I'd never had a dog and he was very loving. We had a great time together. By the time we were at the park I was begging my mother for a dog just like Boris. I don't know if she meant it or not but she said we would start looking soon for a dog. And right on cue the doctor mentioned his wife bred dogs, just like Boris, they'd just had a litter born some weeks prior, and they were now ready for new homes."

"So even if your mother was only appeasing the little boy with the broken arm with a vague promise, she now had the means to provide the dog and no reason to really say no, did she?" Lucy said, grinning. Flynn grinned back.

"No, she didn't. It was quite convenient. She might not have been serious, but she couldn't deny how happy the dog had made me. We went to pick up one immediately. I picked a male. He licked my chin and happily wagged his tail all the way home. She laughed at my joy and I remember that I'd never seen her smile so much or for so long in my entire life. So that's why it was my lucky day _and _one of the happiest memories with her."

"Yes, I can see that." Lucy's voice was soft, her smile beautiful. "What kind of dog was he and what did you name him?" She asked. He loved her curiosity.

"He was a Croatian Sheepdog. He was black with a white patch on his chest and very lively. He was my faithful companion for many years." Flynn said, his fondness for the dog obvious.

"And the name?" Lucy asked.

"A good Croatian name; Bojan. The j sounds like a y so it was pronounced Bo-yawn."

"What does it mean?"

"It meant "battle"." Flynn replied.

"Hmmm," Lucy began, giving him a thoughtful look. "I like it. I suppose it's somewhat fitting for an animal that would be your 'faithful companion'."

"Yes, I suppose it would be. I've been through my fair share of battles, and that was before Rittenhouse. It feels magnified since then, however." Flynn left it at that as he wasn't sure what else to say. No matter how much they might not want it to be so, it always seemed to come back to Rittenhouse with them. They were always in the background, and if the journal was right, as it usually was, they would be for some years to come. The thought saddened him, but there was nothing to be done. They were now on the course set in motion by the journal and there was no altering it.

Silence, but not uncomfortable this time, came over the room. Flynn wondered where Lucy's thoughts had gone to, but he didn't want to interrupt the companionable quiet between them. Not just yet anyway. The hustle and bustle would begin soon enough. Judging by the brightness of the sunlight in the room, he guessed there wasn't much more time until Carl came. He assumed Lucy would feel better if she were already dressed before he did.

"Lucy," she looked at him when he said her name.

"Yes?"

"I think we should probably get up, get dressed. Carl should be here anytime, and I think we both want to be presentable _before_ he is." Flynn forced himself to say this in a neutral tone, suppressing the desire to kiss her again. Or to betray how much he _didn't _want to get up and face what the day would bring. Lucy's face fell, and Flynn hated he was the cause of that and of whatever bad things were going to happen today. But as he'd thought earlier, there was no backing out, not now.

"You're right. We don't want him to suspect anything. I doubt that would go over very well, for _either_ of us," Lucy said woodenly. Flynn's heart clenched at her stiff tone, but it was for the best. They both needed to steel themselves. No matter what had happened last night, today was still going to be unpleasant. Flynn figured _unpleasant _wasn't really the correct term for it because multiple people were going to lose their lives. He felt terrible that some were going to be by his hand. And while what he had in mind for Lucy's team, it was of no consequence it wouldn't personally be him, it was _still _of _his_ doing.

They survived, of course, according to the journal, but there was _always _the smallest chance they wouldn't. Any number of things could happen differently today that would cause them to die like he planned. The guilt actually stabbed at him. While he was certainly no fan of Logan, for many reasons, Rufus was just caught in a bad spot, being their only pilot, and Flynn _did _feel bad about that. It wasn't fair..._but life isn't fair, _Flynn reminded himself of the bitter truth. Sometimes good people were lost only because of unfortunate circumstances. He just hated Lucy was going to be hurt if they didn't survive.

Lucy's voice, like it always would, pulled Flynn from his dark thoughts. "Well," she said as she rolled away from him. "We'd better start getting ready." There was a false cheerfulness in her tone, but Flynn couldn't begrudge her for her facade and actually approved, although she didn't need it, of her choosing to face their situation with dignity and the bravery most people would never have. She fit the description of the Amazonian Warrior women of myth and legend in every way.

Flynn rose from the bed and they dressed in silence.

...

I hope everyone had a great Fourth! :)


	15. Hopeless Tasks and Fervent Prayers

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Hopeless Tasks and Fervent Prayers

Lucy-

Lucy determinedly maintained her cheerful demeanor as she rose from the bed and dressed. She didn't like the silence surrounding her and Flynn, but she wasn't sure what there was to say anyway. She was also afraid that if the silence was interrupted that her facade would crack. She assumed he knew this since he didn't say anything either. She realized that he must be aware how important it was to her that she keep her brave front up. In many ways, Flynn knew her almost as much as Amy had. It was simultaneously a comforting and frightening prospect.

Since Amy had been erased, Lucy had had no one to talk to, not truly. Last night with Flynn, just the talking alone, had been wonderful. It was the most relaxed she'd been in months. Her life was a continuous roller coaster these days and she'd felt like she was slowly suffocating. It'd been nice to have a genuine conversation with someone. The mind-blowing sex hadn't hurt either. She didn't think she'd ever had a partner make her feel as good as last night, Flynn was quite the lover. She blushed just thinking about it.

Lucy was so lost in her thoughts that she was once again aware of the problem she'd faced last night. Whereas the night before she couldn't undress alone, she now had the exact opposite problem, dressing without assistance was impossible. She walked to Flynn, who was just finished buttoning his shirt, holding her very much hated corset in place.

"Do you mind?" Lucy asked Flynn.

Flynn looked up at her, blinking slowly, as if he didn't understand what she was asking. She turned, making it clear what she needed. He didn't say a word, just went to work on tying her laces. Thankfully he was much gentler than the woman at the clothing shop and didn't lace them nearly as tightly as she had. She was grateful, as she wouldn't be _as _uncomfortable wearing the accursed thing. It truly was a torture device. If Lucy never had to wear another corset in her life it would be too soon. She figured that it would be futile to wish for that. There would more than likely be more trips to the past where they were necessary.

_Maybe I can be a trendsetter and introduce fashion _without _a damned corset whenever the next trip when I'd need to wear one is, _she thought with much amusement. With their luck, she assumed the next time would probably be in the 16th century and she could stop women wearing them five-hundred years sooner. _Women everywhere would thank me! _

When Flynn was done with her corset Lucy quickly stepped into the dress. She stood still as he worked on her numerous buttons. There really were too many! Next, she quickly donned her stockings, clasping her garters into place before working on her boots. She hated absolutely everything about this outfit. So many garments, buttons, and laces! Lucy knew she wasn't a sloppy dresser or anything, but this was just ridiculous. She'd take a sweater and jeans any day over all of this.

Walking to the mirror to fix her hair, Lucy couldn't deny that the ensemble _did _cut a nice figure. She studied her reflection as she brushed and pinned her hair again. It wasn't necessarily a style she would've chosen to wear everyday, but it did look pretty. Trying to find the positive side, she told herself to remember that she was actually _experiencing _history, not just re-enacting it, and how amazing that was. _And _that _is pretty cool! _she thought.

Flynn stood behind Lucy a bit to her left, looking into the mirror as he tied his tie. She turned, walking towards him. "You know I'm still going to try and stop you today, don't you?" she asked, straightening the tie for him.

Surprisingly, Flynn grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear Lucy."

Lucy couldn't help but smile back. That was such a _Flynn _thing to say. Who else could find the humor in their situation. Wyatt certainly wouldn't if it were him. Lucy felt a little guilt at the thought of Wyatt. Despite the change in her relationship with Flynn, she missed not only Wyatt, but everyone else as well. She was well aware that she'd been taken against her will and was essentially being held prisoner. Lucy truly wanted to stop whatever nefarious plans Flynn had for today and she wanted to go _home_. She was afraid what getting away would mean for him though. He seemed more human when she was near him, and it scared her what darkness awaited him without her.

_I can't help that, though, _she thought, _I _have _to stop him! _She wondered just what was Flynn's agenda for today, how he was planning on killing Thomas Edison, J.P. Morgan, and Henry Ford. Or, more importantly, just how she was going to thwart him. She usually had Wyatt and Rufus to help her, this time she was alone, and that worried her the most. Yes, she'd been able to stop him in 1780 on her own, but it was very doubtful it would happen a second time.

Not for the first time since their conversation after they'd landed in Chicago, Lucy speculated on how much Flynn meant that she was expendable now. If push came to shove, she was fairly certain their night together would mean nothing if it was between her life and getting his family back. In one way, she couldn't blame him. She wondered how far she was willing to go to get Amy back. If she had to do something terrible, as Flynn was doing, to get her back, _would_ she do it? Lucy honestly didn't have an answer and it was a scary thought. _I suppose I'll cross that bridge if, or when, I come to it, _she thought sadly.

A sense of dread filled the room when several loud knocks sounded on the door of their room. Lucy gathered her courage as Flynn walked over to open it. _Whatever happens today, I have to try to keep the damage as minimal as possible, _she told herself. It felt like a hopeless task, but she would do her best, or die trying.

Lucy prayed fervently that it wouldn't come to that.


	16. Just A Lovely Morning

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Just A Lovely Morning

Flynn-

After helping Lucy with her corset and dress, Flynn decided it was more fun _undressing _her than dressing, finished dressing himself in stoic silence. There was nothing to say. Their "time out" from the real world was at an end. It weighed heavily on his heart that things were about to go back to how they'd been before, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He _had _to continue with his mission, otherwise he'd never get Lorena and Iris back, and that was all that mattered.

Flynn was beside Lucy, but a few steps back from her. They were both facing the mirror, he was tying his tie and she was re-pinning her hair. Lucy's voice pierced his concentration. He hadn't noticed her turning and walking over to him. "You know I'm still going to try and stop you today, don't you?" she asked, straightening the tie.

_Ah, _Flynn thought, _there she is. _He smiled, fond of her fiery spirit. "I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear Lucy." And she was _his_dear Lucy. She always would be, no matter the situation between them. He was glad she smiled back at him.

Lucy seemed to lose herself in her thoughts as Flynn donned his gun holster, adjusting it to the most comfortable position before throwing his jacket over it, hiding it from plain view. He hoped he wouldn't have to shoot anyone today. It was bad enough he planned to use a bomb to kill his targets, but a bomb seemed _less_ personal somehow, whereas a gun was infinitely _more_ personal. _It's not as if it truly matters, _he scoffed inwardly. _A gun, bomb, knife...it doesn't matter. The end result is still death. _

Flynn mused that by this point that he should be used to it, or at least numb, but he wasn't. He just hid it very, very well. He needed everyone to _think_ he was a cold-blooded killer. He couldn't deny it worked to his advantage. Most of his men were terrified of him, which was good because it helped keep them in line. They were too afraid he'd hunt them down and kill them if they even thought of abandoning his cause. He felt a tiny bit of guilt at the knowledge that he would actually do just that if one of them did leave. And at times like now he felt a pang of loss for the man he'd been before his life was destroyed, the man Lorena had fallen in love with and was a good father to Iris. The fact that he had to kill so much to get them back was an unfortunate means to an end.

Several loud knocks sounded against the door. If Carl used much more pressure it would be considered pounding on the door. Flynn sighed, Carl followed directions well and had his back, but he was quite abrasive. Sometimes it even wore on his nerves. He was effective though, that couldn't be denied, and that was all that Flynn really needed in a right-hand man.

Flynn opened the door and Carl marched in, immediately staring daggers at Lucy. _Carl has about as much tact as a rampaging bull is graceful in a china shop, _Flynn grumbled to himself. A part of him wanted to punch him for just looking at Lucy like that, knowing it was a scare tactic, so she wouldn't try anything, but that would completely defeat his own purpose if he did. He'd used his own scare tactic on Lucy last night, and he had another lined up for today, so it was hypocritical of him to feel that way. _Talk about the pot calling the kettle black_, he thought darkly.

Lucy would always be a soft spot for Flynn. She was the only one who knew that and he wanted to keep it that way. She'd been right when she said it wouldn't be good for either of them if it was found out their night had been less than the keeper/prisoner variety. It would be something for just the two of them, something he'd have to think about to brighten his days that were darker than usual. _And there'll be plenty more of those_, Flynn thought bitterly.

Carl slowly approached him, waiting for further instructions. Flynn told him to have breakfast trays sent to the room for him and Lucy and to then carry out the first part of his plan to keep Logan and Rufus out of his hair today. It was going to be difficult enough keeping Lucy from interfering, and despite his best efforts, she usually bested him. He felt an odd mix of pride and exasperation that Lucy kept beating him. _You're a complete moron, Garcia Flynn!_ he thought to himself. _Why did I ever let things change between us last night?!? _

As much as he wanted to berate himself for his actions of the night before, Flynn couldn't bring himself to truly rage at himself. He should, but he couldn't, as much as it was going to complicate matters more, he just wasn't able to regret what had happened between him and Lucy. It was something beautiful shared between two people in an ugly, ugly world. And, yes, much of that ugliness to her was new and due to him, but he had no choice, if he wanted to right the wrong Rittenhouse had done to him. There was nothing he wanted more, so this ugliness had to continue. Flynn didn't like it, but he saw it as necessary. He had to _save_ Lorena and Iris.

Flynn was never more grateful in that moment, his thoughts had taken another dark turn, when there was a knocking on the door; their breakfast he presumed. He opened the door and a young man wheeled a cart inside the room and Flynn gave him a generous tip before the server could begin taking the lids from the trays, indicating he wanted him to leave. The server clearly got the message, quickly leaving the room without a backward glance. Flynn's thoughts took on a dark hue again. No matter where in time you went, people always had a price for their silence, actions or lack of actions. It didn't matter that it served well for his purposes right now, there was always going to be the capacity for evil in human beings.

He included himself in the evil category. Flynn had no delusions about what he was doing. He knew how reprehensible his actions were, he didn't need Homeland Security sending a Delta Force soldier with orders to 'kill on site' to know that. He knew it every time he looked into Lucy's eyes, how he sunk lower and lower in her opinion after each horrible thing he'd done. That's why last night was so special to him. It was the first time Lucy had looked at him with an emotion other than fear, pity, disgust, or any other number of unpleasant emotions. He definitely deserved all of that and more from her, but last night she'd finally looked at him as the person he was underneath all of his terrible deeds; a man in great pain.

Flynn was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realized that Lucy had ventured over to the cart and begun unveiling their breakfast. He'd not given any specific instructions for Carl to tell the staff of the hotel so he had no idea what their breakfast consisted of. Hungry himself, he wandered over to stand beside Lucy. There was an assortment of foods: slices of ham, scrambled eggs, hard-boiled eggs, toast, butter and strawberry preserves for the toast, plus a carafe of coffee and a pot of tea, including a small jug of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes. It painted a pretty little picture.

A quick feeling of wistfulness overcame Flynn at the sight of Lucy fixing herself a plate and then a mug of coffee. _What I wouldn't give for this to be a normal morning!_ he thought. Just a normal breakfast between a couple going to see Chicago's World Fair for the first time. How lovely that would be. _Lovely? _Flynn asked himself. _When did I start thinking things were lovely? _He knew at that moment that he needed to steel his thoughts _and_ his heart again. He couldn't let his feelings for Lucy interfere with his plans for today. He needed to be on high alert for he knew her schemes would keep him on the tips of his toes, which was par for the course. He needed to be ready when she rebelled against him, it was only a question of _when_ she would. He was very intrigued by the _how, _as well.

Lucy always surprised him and today would be no different Flynn silently mused. As annoying as it might be, Flynn actually found himself looking forward to what her genius plan, came up with at the drop of a hat, would be and would most likely lead to his failure, again. So with that in mind, he fixed himself a plate and poured a cup of coffee, no cream or sugar, and sat down at the small table with Lucy. They ate their breakfast in the quiet of the sunny morning.

The atmosphere surrounding them was about to change, and quickly, to a much darker, foreboding feeling.

...

**This is where things are going to start rolling like in the episode, but with my own little added things here and there. Thanks so much for reading and I find the reviews very encouraging! :)**


	17. Three Important Men and A Beer

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

Three Important Men and A Beer

Lucy-

As they ate breakfast in silence Lucy was deep in thought. Last night Flynn had mentioned the meeting between Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, and J.P. Morgan. She was mentally running through the most notable accomplishments of each man after 1893 and which would never come to fruition if they died today. The list was numerous.

Edison's motion picture camera or "Kinetograph" would never be patented and possibly not circulated world-wide. This would mean the approximate 1,200 films made by his film studio would never be produced. The Motion Picture Patents Company would never be started in 1908. Also, his nickel-iron-battery with lye as the electrolyte, the accumulator, which was the first recharable battery, would not come about in 1910.

The astronomical benefits for the United States from the chemical phenol would never have happened either as those events had not taken place until after World War I had began, over twenty years later. Phenol was imported from Britain and used to make phonograph records. After war broke out, the British Parliament blocked exports because it could be converted to ammonium picrate, a shock resistant high explosive suitable for use in artillery shells. Supplies from Germany were also, for obvious reasons, blockaded.

Edison needed this chemical so he decided to take matters into his own hands and undertook production of phenol at his Silver Lake facility. The chemical wasn't just needed for his phonographs because one of the derivatives was needed for Bakelite, the original thermoset plastic. It was used for a variety of things, such as insulating foams, mattresses, shoe soles, car parts, etc. The other benefit was Aspirin. The Bayer plant was a US manufacturer of the 'block buster drug' and struggled to find a continuous supply of the phenol derivative needed during the war. Edison was able to oblige, therefore keeping the country well stocked in the miracle cure pill.

Henry Ford would never complete his self-propelled vehicle, named the Ford Quadricycle, in 1896. His second automobile wouldn't have been completed in 1898 either, leading to the financial backing of William H. Murphy and the founding of the Detroit Automobile Company in 1899. Though that company was dissolved in 1901, Ford would eventually form the Ford Motor Company and introduce the Model T automobile in 1908. Less than a decade later half of the cars in America were Model Ts. Ford was a huge influence in the car industry for decades, not to mention the benefit to the economy. Ford dealerships are _still_ everywhere in America!

J.P. Morgan was also extremely important to history. His financial companies dominated corporate finance on Wall Street. He played a major role in the formation of the companies, companies still known and in business today, General Electric, the United States Steel Corporation, International Harverster and ATT. All of which were/are very important companies to the success of the United States. He directed the banking coalition that stopped the Panic of 1907, a financial crisis which could have kickstarted the Great Depression by over two decades. His dedication to efficiency and modernization helped transform American business. Morgan even had a, mostly monetary, hand in the building of the Titanic. If not for a last minute decision he would've most likely perished in the disaster. He was also heavily involved in the railroads of America and so many other things they were too many to name.

If these men were to die today, despite being Rittenhouse, none of these things would take place. Lucy inwardly shuddered at how any one of those events not taking place would impact history and the lasting effects, or what would happen to the economy with the absence of these men after 1893. Rittenhouse or not, Edison, Ford, and Morgan all _had _to live. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have to stop him, whatever the price. She just hoped she was prepared to pay it.

By the time she was done thinking over what would never take place if the three men died today, Lucy and Flynn were seated at a small table in the downstairs restaurant area of the hotel. The atmosphere was once again filled with the familiar tension of being at odds. They had just been served a Pabst beer, now commonly known as PBR (Pabst Blue Ribbon), named thus after winning the blue ribbon at the fair. Flynn thanked the waitress and began speaking as soon as she'd walked away.

"So, Professor, as you well know, Edison was a paranoid son of a bitch. Didn't ever trust anyone near his prototypes except Henry Ford, who was?" Flynn asked, no doubt testing her knowledge.

Lucy wouldn't disappoint. "Edison's employee. His chief engineer at the time."

Flynn continued. "This afternoon, Edison and Ford are going to meet with their financier, J.P. Morgan. They'll be in a heavily guarded room very difficult to get into, even for me, even in 1893. But still, before they show up, I'm gonna plant a bomb there—"

Lucy cut him off. "I'm not going to help you. You'll have to kill me." She decided it was time to see if he was bluffing or not on his threat.

"You don't think I will?"

_There_ was the Flynn Lucy was accustomed to. "I read your classified file—"

"Don't believe everything you read," Flynn cut in.

Lucy persevered, wanting to make her point. "You saved people in Kosovo. You helped a family in Iraq. You used to care about people. You _used _to be _good._ That Rittenhouse killed your family, I believe you. But now you're putting all of us in danger." _And life as we know it, _she thought.

Flynn opened his mouth but no words came out. The look on his face was one Lucy couldn't decipher. She would never know what he was going to say to her statement of him being good, however, because the door had opened and Carl came up to their table.

"Well, they were easy to find. They went right for Roosevelt, just like you said they would," Carl said, speaking directly to Flynn, ignoring Lucy. The absence of his threatening manner towards her almost escaped her notice as she processed what he'd said.

Lucy had a sinking suspicion of who the 'they' Carl was talking about. She wanted clarification though. "What is he talking about?"

Flynn's tone was the normal flippant as he said, "Maybe you don't care about yourself, but you do care about Wyatt and Rufus, don't you? I've sent your friends to the, ah, World's Fair Hotel."

Horror suffused Lucy's entire being, her eyes becoming teary at the mention of her friends and _where_ they were. "You son of a bitch."

She couldn't stop the words as they came out._ How could he be so cruel, _Lucy thought, outraged. Flynn was insane if he thought last night would change how she felt about him sending them _there!_

"But the hotel came to be known by another name. What was that again?" Flynn asked with an air of smug indifference.

"The Murder Castle," Lucy said, defeat almost coloring her tone. _How can I help them _and _stop Flynn, _she asked herself.

"You know, the phrase "serial killer" was not even coined yet when H.H. Holmes, the owner of the Murder Castle, was caught?" Flynn spoke like he was stating an inane fact equivalent to J.P. Morgan being called "the greatest banker" in American history.

"Is that right?" Carl asked, as casual as if asking a normal question in a normal conversation.

Flynn continued, "The press called him a, uh, "multi-murderer". And the hotel he built was an elaborate death trap. Trapdoors, acid vats, torture racks...he'd even dissect them sometimes. But you know all this, Lucy, don't you?"

Lucy wanted to smack the smug smirks from both Flynn's and Carl's faces. She was determined, now more than ever, to stop him _and _save Wyatt and Rufus, not to mention herself. _I will do this, _she vowed. She just wasn't sure _how _she was going to attain her goal. She only knew she couldn't fail. Too many lives were at stake now.


	18. Business As Usual

Sorry it's taken a few days to update again. I've been busy helping with my best friend's baby shower and that took a LOT of time!

Business As Usual

Flynn-

Neither Flynn nor Lucy said a word after they'd consumed their breakfast and left the hotel room. Lucy seemed deep in thought. While he was curious to know what she was thinking, he figured he'd leave her to her thoughts. Besides, it seemed awkward at this point anyway. The air was full of tension again, both aware that they'd rejoined the _real _world, the world where they were _enemies _again. Flynn sighed at the thought of that word: enemies. He and Lucy would be at odds for a while longer still and Flynn hated it.

Now they sat at a small table in the restaurant area of the hotel. Flynn ordered them both a Pabst Blue Ribbon, a terribly cheap beer, which he really would've rather not drank, from the young waitress. _What the hell, _he thought though. It was very popular now, having just won the blue ribbon at the fair. _We're _in _history so we might as well experience it as it happens, even if it is a disgusting beer. _

Flynn felt it was time to get back to business as usual. He needed to bring back the Flynn from when they'd first landed in Chicago, the man who told Lucy she was now expendable if she wouldn't help him or got in his way. He fought the urge to cringe at his threat. He seriously wondered now if he would _truly _be able to kill her if it came to that. Last night had irrevocably changed things between them. He was no longer sure of what he _would _or _wouldn't _do concerning Lucy and her life. It was so confusing. A part of him wished he could go back in time, not for the first time obviously, and change what had happened. He would make sure not to complicate matters like they now were.

Flynn was aware he needed to start telling Lucy more of his plan. The young woman brought their beers, unknowingly explaining to them what they already knew about it, and left.

"So, Professor, as you well know, Edison was a paranoid son of a bitch. Didn't ever trust anyone near his prototypes except Henry Ford, who was?" He knew Lucy knew the answer, but he felt he needed to keep this ruse of airy questioning.

As quick as she always was, Lucy said, "Edison's employee. His chief engineer at the time."

Flynn continued with his impromptu 'lesson' and plan. "This afternooon, Edison, and Ford are going to meet with their financier, J.P. Morgan." _Rittenhouse bastards, _Flynn thought to himself, but continued out loud, "They'll be in a heavily guarded room very difficult to get into, even for me, even in 1893. But still, before they show up, I'm gonna plant a bomb there—" He didn't have the chance to finish.

Lucy abruptly interrupted. "I'm not going to help you. You'll have to kill me."

_Damn, why did she have to say _that? Flynn knew it was time to be the _old _Flynn now, the one who didn't seem to care one way or the other about Lucy's life. He loathed what he _had _to say next. "You don't think I will?"

Lucy didn't react with fear the way he thought she would. Instead, she said, "I read your classified file—"

_Where the hell is she going with that?! _he thought in surprise. Don't believe everything you read," he cut her off.

Lucy continued, determination written all over her face. "You saved people in Kosovo. You helped a family in Iraq. You used to care about people. You _used," _Flynn could hear the emphasis on the word 'used', "to be _good_," emphasis again. "That Rittenhouse killed your family, I believe you. But now you're putting all of us in danger."

_Oh, Lucy, _he thought, _if only it were that simple. I'm not the same man who did all those _good _things. _Flynn wasn't sure what to say. He was saved by the bell, literally, when Carl came inside the hotel, the little bell above the door jingling. He strode purposefully and directly to their table.

"Well, they were easy to find. They went right for Roosevelt, just like you said they would," Carl said. Flynn felt it couldn't have been more fortuitous that Teddy Roosevelt was in Chicago at this exact time. It was the perfect bait for Logan and Rufus to lead them where he needed them to go. He truly did feel bad for where he'd sent them, but it would definitely keep them from interfering in his plans and from rescuing Lucy.

"What is he talking about?" Lucy asked.

Flynn did honestly not look forward to telling her the location of where he'd had Carl send her team on a wild goose chase looking for her. It was unavoidable, however.

"Maybe you don't care about yourself, but you do care about Wyatt and Rufus, don't you? I've sent your friends to the, ah, World's Fair Hotel." Flynn quipped out, noticing her eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears at the mention of Logan and Rufus. It took a lot of willpower to not break and show his remorse, he _did_ truly feel remorse for what fate possibly awaited Lucy's team, and the pain she would be in if they didn't survive.

"You son of a bitch." Lucy said, outrage coloring her tone. Flynn felt absolutely terrible. And hurt, as irrational as it was, if he was completely honest. He wouldn't expect any other reaction from her, but it still stung. He was aware that by sending her friends where he did made him the terrible person he was before their night together, the man who killed Lincoln in front of her, and countless others since this madness had begun. But he didn't let any of this show on his face. He just continued in his usual flippant attitude.

"But the hotel came to be known by another name. What was that again?" Flynn was being a smartass and he knew it, but he _had _to play this role now. This smug, indifferent asshole.

"The Murder Castle," Lucy said, almost reluctantly, as if she didn't say it it wouldn't seem as bad as it was.

Flynn decided if he was going to play the asshole, he might as well do an excellent job. "You know, the phrase "serial killer" was not even coined yet when H.H. Holmes, the owner of the Murder Castle, was caught?" he asked Carl, feigning nonchalance, like he was asking Carl about the weather.

"Is that right?" Carl asked, playing along.

"The press called him a, uh, "multi-murderer". And the hotel he built was an elaborate death trap. Trapdoors, acid vats, torture racks...he'd even disssect them sometimes. But you know all this, Lucy, don't you?" he asked with a smirk. It wasn't strictly _necessary_ for him to describe the horrors of the hotel or that Holmes sometimes dissected his victims. As he'd said, Lucy knew this. He was just, like the ass he was being, driving the point home that Logan and Rufus had just been led into the proverbial lion's den. Only this "lion's den" was much, much worse.

If looks could kill, Flynn was sure he and Carl would be dead. He couldn't blame Lucy. Not one bit. He absolutely abhorred himself for what he was doing to her.

Flynn pressed on though. "You can still save your friends, Lucy. The sooner you help me, the sooner you can get back to them, hopefully in time." He knew it was a dick move to dangle the lives of her friends of front of her like that. But, as usual, it served a purpose. Motivation, so to speak, for her to help him. "Maybe you can help me find someone who can evade the security, break into the office, all that without being detected."

Lucy wouldn't look at him.

"Oh, come on, Lucy, you always have all the answers." Flynn said, purposefully goading Lucy.

He could see the wheels turning in her head. Her face became alight with an idea and Flynn wondered what stroke of genius had just come to her mind. It was sure to be brilliant, as Lucy always was.


	19. The Great Harry Houdini

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Timeless and ABC.

The Great Harry Houdini

Flynn-

Flynn and Lucy were sitting in some very uncomfortable wooden chairs in the second to last row in one of the numerous small "show" tents of the fair. Carl was behind them, providing 'security'. He felt it was unnecessary, however, seriously doubting that Lucy would try to make a run for it now. The lives of her friends, and possibly hers, were depending upon her helping him. He knew she wouldn't risk their lives to save her own. Besides, if she ran from him and was too late to save them, she would be stuck, having no choice but to live out the rest of her life in the past.

A woman on her own, even one as brilliant and strong as Lucy Preston, would be at a great disadvantage in this era. It would still be another twenty-seven years before women won the right to vote. It would not be until sometime in the 1960s when women were able to open a bank account without the approval of a father, brother, or husband. And the probability of a husband for Lucy at this point in her life was greatly diminished. Already in her thirties, she was well past the _marriageable age. _Flynn scoffed at that mentality. Even almost at the turn of the century, men were still disillusioned that women were the _weaker _sex. _Some men still think that way, _he thought, knowing Lucy would give most men who thought they were superior a run for their money. And she would win more often than not.

They didn't wait long before a man confidently walked out onto the stage to much applause and a drum roll.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I am the great Harry Houdini! Welcome." The man announced in a slightly showy manner. There was more applause.

Flynn was very impressed. He sat there and tried not to look it, feeling it might inadvertently give Lucy more ideas, ideas unhelpful to him, if he let her know just how impressed he was. She really was a genius. He needed her to think he was skeptical of her judgment, which couldn't be further from the truth.

Lucy noticed because she leaned over to Flynn and said, "He may not be famous yet, but there's still no one better at getting into _or_ out of tight spots." It would be ironic how true that statement was, he would think later. Flynn didn't respond because Houdini spoke again to the small crowd in the tent.

"For this act, I will need a volunteer."

Lucy immediately raised her hand. Her excited smile when she was waved forward by Houdini was like the sun. Her enthusiasm to meet and be a part of history with someone as great as Harry Houdini made Flynn want to smile. Regardless of the situation she found herself in, despite the fact that her life and those of Logan and Rufus, were hinging on their _success _of murdering three, possibly more, people today, she was still enthusiastic to meet such a historical figure.

Flynn didn't let it show, though, for the same reason he didn't want it known he was impressed by her idea of using Houdini to get into the room where the meeting would take place. It pierced his dark heart when she looked at him and her smile disappeared. He wasn't sure if he was proud or loathed his ability to lie so well when it came to Lucy. She quickly squashed her excitement, then hurried towards the stage. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, looking behind him to Carl, a little nervous on whether it was a good idea to allow her so far away from them. Carl looked to have the same thought. _Maybe I should send him around to the backstage entrance of the tent, make _sure _she doesn't try to escape, _he thought. But Flynn dismissed it as soon as it came to him, still banking on the fact Lucy wouldn't take that gamble with the lives of her friends.

_She's too decent of a person to do that, _Flynn thought, absolutely cognizant that Lucy was so purely_ good_ and he couldn't hate himself more than he did at that moment for what he was doing to her.

Flynn pushed that aside. There was nothing he could do but continue his agenda. And right now that involved Lucy, and now Harry Houdini. He really had to hand it to Lucy this time. Her ingenuity would always astound him. He had to admit it never would've crossed his mind to ask, threaten more like, the 'escape artist' to aid him in murdering people. He would have to use Lucy's life as leverage for Houdini to do what he wanted him to. Fortunately for Flynn, Houdini was also of the decent sort, and would be unwilling to risk the life of someone, even if he'd just met that someone.

Harry Houdini was the perfect man to _help _them, Flynn thought as he watched Lucy step up onto the stage. She was correct, there was no one more suited to circumvent the security measures on the room Edison had, no doubt, designed to be _impenetrable. _The genius of Houdini and Edison's arrogance would guarantee his entry into the room. And then he could plant the bomb, therefore succeeding, and they could go home. Or to the warehouse that served as a substitute for a home. It was truly a depressing place, but it suited their needs perfectly. There really was no consideration for all of the normal comforts an actual home provided, not while this madness continued, at least.

_Maybe after, then..._Flynn let the thought trail off, not wanting to go there. Not yet. Any hope at this stage would be false hope and he just couldn't take that kind of disappointment at this point in time. It would be too cruel. He decided to sit back, relax the tiniest bit, and just enjoy the show. It was actually fun to see Houdini in person, a rare opportunity, as Houdini had died decades before any of them were born. The only thing that made it better was the apparent joy of Lucy as she participated in the show. He didn't even let Carl's nervous behavior dampen his mood. Carl had moved from his seat to the side of the tent after Lucy had stepped onto the stage, as if anticipating she would run.

"You say your name is Lucy?" Houdini asked.

Lucy cleared her throat. Flynn could see her nerves. "Lucy. That's right," she said.

"Now, Lucy, have we ever met before?"

"No. We have never met before," Lucy answered.

"How sad for me." Houdini said, looking to the crowd, who, of course, laughed at his statement. Flynn couldn't help his smile. Yes, they'd never met before, but Flynn could tell that Lucy did know all about him. She didn't look at him as a partial observer of history would, there was something more there. He wondered what.

Houdini continued the show. He turned his back to the crowd and asked, "Lucy, will you please check my handcuffs and make sure they're tied securely behind my back?"

Lucy did so and said, "Yup, they're locked."

"Ladies and gentlemen, as this beautiful lady has just confirmed, my hands are tied securely behind my back." He stepped inside the trunk. "I will now step into this trunk. My brother Dash will then lock it shut. Trapped inside, it will be hard to move. Even harder," he paused for dramatic effect, "to breathe." He then knelt down and his brother shut the lid.

His brother picked up three deadbolt locks and said to Lucy, "Ma'am, if you will, please see that these are indeed locked." He proceeded to fasten each deadbolt.

Lucy checked each one and said, "Okay, they're locked."

Dash faced the crowd with the key held up for everyone to see before he nonchalantly tossed it to the side of the stage, where it clattered out of sight. Flynn had to hand it to the Houdini brothers. They really had a flair for showmanship. It was little wonder they both had such longstanding and incredibly popular careers.

Dash gestured to the curtain rod lying on the floor in front of them and said, "And the curtain please." They both picked up an end, stepped onto a chair, raising a deep maroon curtain with golden tassels, matching the cloths hanging around the stage, concealing them both and the trunk. A few moments later the curtain dropped and Houdini was standing atop the trunk with his arms thrown wide, a triumphant smile on his face. Lucy's face lit up with joy and even a gasp of _No_! burst forth from her mouth.

Houdini jumped down from the trunk and said, "Thank you, thank you. And please, tell your friends about the great Houdini." The audience continued its applause as he bowed to the them. He then turned and gestured towards Lucy, directing to the applause to his "assistant" for the act. He offered his hand to her to help her down from her place on the chair. Her surprise and happiness at his gentlemanly behavior was plain to see.

Houdini's act had not been long, only the one stunt, as he was not, as Lucy had said, famous yet. The excited surpriseshe showed when Houdini "escaped" from his handcuffs and locked trunk and popped up before the audience actually made Flynn smile, a real smile, for the first time since before breakfast. It was not smug or a smirk, but a genuine smile. He applauded along with the rest of the crowd, not bothering to school his face into an indifferent mask. He let it all wash over him, taking time to just _be _in the moment, something he hadn't done in years. It was a lovely change. _There's that word again, _he thought in wry amusement.

Flynn suddenly reminded himself why they were there, his face once again hardening. It was definitely _not _to only watch the show. He had a purpose and a goal, as despicable as it was, and he needed to get back to it. Now was not the time to forget that. _Whatever it takes, _he told himself, steel reinforcement in every word.

Lucy rejoined Flynn and Carl and he told Lucy what he wanted her to do to as the tent slowly emptied of the audience. She was to get Houdini alone and he would take it from there. _Time for an encore, Harry, _he thought, waiting for Lucy to bring the man to where he and Carl waited. Carl was holding his gun, ready to make the threat clear as soon as Houdini came to them. They didn't wait long.


	20. An Enore

An Encore

Lucy-

Lucy was standing in the now empty tent waiting for Harry Houdini, trying very, very hard not to freak out. She wasn't sure how successful she was. She took a moment to think back to the demonstration. If she was honest, she'd loved being on stage with Harry Houdini. It was such a rush, like a surreal whirlwind. No matter how many trips to the past they made, she would never get used to meeting historical figures such as Houdini, Lincoln, Bonnie and Clyde and any of the others they'd met. They'd met George Washington, the _father of their nation _for crying out loud! Sure, he'd accused them of being British spies and would've had them hung for treason, but still, it was _George Washington! _

Even now, months later, she sometimes still woke up expecting all of this to be a bizarre dream. _What an extraordinary dream this would be, _she thought as she sighed. The moment of wistfulness was brief for Lucy. The situation pressed upon her and again she was nervous, her stomach tying itself in knots. It was almost painful.

Flynn had told Lucy to find a way to get Harry Houdini alone so he could perform _an encore, as _Flynn had called it. Now she paced back and forth, hoping to distract herself, even the slightest bit would help, from the panic she was beginning to feel bubbling up inside her. Not only was her life in jeopardy, not that it really mattered, but those of Wyatt and Rufus and now Harry Houdini, all hung in the balance of whether or not she succeeded in helping Flynn kill Thomas Edison, Henry Ford and J.P. Morgan. She inwardly shuddered. Who knew how many people would die in the blast of the bomb in addition to his _targets_. She hadn't had the heart to ask Flynn how powerful his device would be, and truth be told, she didn't want to know.

Lucy hoped she wouldn't have to wait long for the illusionist to come back out. The longer she was alone gave her more time to second-guess herself and her decision to do this, and for her anxiety to rise higher and higher. If there was much more piled upon her, she felt like she would explode or drown. Another thought came over her suddenly, _W__hat if he doesn't believe my lie, so Carl or Flynn shoots him just to keep him from alerting the police? If Flynn doesn't get into that room...I might not be able to save my friends. _A lump formed in her throat at the heartbreaking notion.

If law enforcement became involved they would be severely outmatched in weaponry compared to the modern weapons of Carl and Flynn. It could end up being a mass shooting. Gun violence was obviously nothing new in America since their invention, but it would be one of the first without being attached to a military action. Gang violence would begin in the next couple of decades and that was bad enough, but _this _incident, _she_ would be a major contributing factor and Lucy didn't think she could live with that.

All Lucy knew in that moment was that she had to involve Harry Houdini, hopefully _without_ getting him killed, _and _had to save her own life in the process so she could, in turn, save Wyatt and Rufus. Every minute those two were trapped, and they were most certainly trapped at this point, in the Murder Castle was a minute too long. Panic reared its ugly head again as she thought of her friends. They had to have realized they were in trouble by now and she worried at how they, especially Rufus, were dealing with it. What Flynn had mentioned earlier being in the hotel, the acid vats and torture racks, were only the tip of the iceberg on what terrible things H.H. Holmes could and did do to people during his reign of terror and murder.

_Damn you, Garcia Flynn, _Lucy wanted to shout as she beat his chest with her fists over and over again. _How _could he do this?!? How could he condemn Wyatt and Rufus to a fate like that? Was _this _truly the _only _way to get his family back??? To take Rittenhouse down??? These questions nagged at her, writhing around in the pit of her stomach like snakes. _Surely, _she thought, S_urely there has to be another path to get what he wants? A path _without _so much death and destruction._

Lucy was pulled from her thoughts when Harry Houdini once more appreared before her. It was the strangest feeling and she was momentarily stunned, again, that she was about to interact again with a man she'd only ever read and heard stories about. Her grandmother had been a huge fan of Houdini, had seen him a few times as a little girl during the later years of his career. Even though she'd died before Lucy was born, she'd passed the stories to her daughter, Carol, who passed them to her daughters. _Well, daughters_, before_ Amy was erased_, Lucy thought.

She could remember being snuggled up on the couch with Amy, mugs of hot cocoa in hand, listening to their mother talk. Story after story of "The Great Illusionist" or "Escape Artist," as their grandmother had liked to call him. Lucy had heard them many times before Amy was even born, but it didn't matter. Carol Preston had a way when telling a story, it was like hearing it for the first time. Amy's giggles and awe with a new story had always made it more fun too. Lucy internally smiled at the memory. She pushed the thought aside, though, because thinking about it only made what she was about to do so much worse.

Lucy fully believed Flynn about his family, she hadn't been lying when she'd said that earlier, and that Rittenhouse was a detrimental organization. The was no way to tell how much of a hinderance to the progression of the United States, at their hands, had happened, it would be immeasurable. Who knew where the US could be, in terms of civil rights and progress. There was no denying Rittenhouse was powerful and only had the interest of the organization in mind after meeting the founder in person, but she was also correct in that what he was doing was putting them _all_ in danger. She had absolutely no idea what would happen if Edison, Ford and Morgan were all killed in 1893. The impact would be undeniablely catastrophic.

And now Harry Houdini was in that category as well. He might not have contributed to history in the ways of Edison, Ford or Morgan, but Houdini had his own accomplishments. None of which would take place if he died today. Lucy had no doubt that neither Flynn nor Carl wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he tried to impede their plan. _And it would be my fault, _she thought, knowing the guilt would be well deserved. It might not be her who killed him, but it would still be _because_ of her, and that sat heavily on Lucy's heart. _I _will _save him! I will save _all _of us! _she thought, a new determination infusing her.

_For Wyatt and Rufus, _she told herself, willing herself to be convincing. The word _liar _reverberated inside her mind, leaving an unpleasant taste in her mouth. She ignored it, reminding herself it was now time for her to _put on a show. _She mentally squared her shoulders and thought, _Well, here goes. _

It was clear Houdini was a bit shocked to see Lucy still in the tent. He probably wondered why she hadn't left and was alone. Women usually weren't in this time.

She smiled. "Hi. Hello."

"Thanks for your help," he said, his tone genuine.

"Oh, you were amazing," Lucy said. She paused not knowing exactly what to say next. She decided the truth was best. "I have to tell you, I'm one of your biggest fans."

"I wasn't aware I had any fans." Puzzlement colored his voice.

Lucy wanted to smack herself. He was so early in his career that his fame hadn't spread very far yet. She had no doubt he was most likely very confused at this point. Realizing she didn't want him asking questions she shouldn't answer, she quickly said, "You know, my uncle, uh," she almost cringed at the _title_ she gave Flynn, "owns a theater here in Chicago, and he's looking for a new act. He saw your show, and he loved it. I mean, if you were interested, I could make an introduction." She hated how the lie rolled from her tongue.

"Yes," Houdini said.

"Really?" she pretended to be excited at the prospect of making such an "introduction".

"Yes, of course. I'm very interested."

"Would you like to meet him now?" Lucy asked.

"Yes, of course." Houdini's enthusiasm was understandable. She hated how she was using his career against him, but she didn't see another option.

"Right this way," Lucy said, gesturing towards the place Flynn and Carl were waiting behind the curtains in the entrance/exit alcove of the tent.

"Thank you," Houdini said, making Lucy feel worse as they walked towards the alcove.

She couldn't stop herself, wanting Houdini to know she didn't like what she was doing. Just before he walked through the curtains she whispered to him, "I am really, really sorry."

Carl aimed his pistol at Houdini and cocked it, immediately letting him know this was not going to be a pleasant conversation and definitely _not _an offer to be booked for a gig. Flynn spoke, quipping out, "Mr. Houdini. A pleasure."

Houdini sighed. It was the defeated sigh of a man who knew he'd been duped. "I don't know what she's told you," he said as he looked behind him to Lucy, a look of betrayal on his face, "but I don't have any money." Lucy looked away, the guilt deeply eating at her, knowing she was absolutely deserving of it. And his statement of not having any money couldn't be truer. He was still years away from being rich.

"Oh, we don't need your money. We need you to pick a lock," Flynn replied.

...

Ideas quickly ran through Lucy's mind as she and Houdini walked in the direction of the building where the meeting would take place, Flynn and Carl behind them. She was trying to think of how they would miraculously stop Flynn, get away _alive,_ find and save Wyatt and Rufus, _without _getting captured _or _killed by H.H. Holmes themselves. Lucy sighed. Life had seemed so much more simple, so much less complicated when she first woke up this morning. _Now it's gone to hell in a hand basket, _she thought, wry amusement engulfing her. She was glad she could find _some_ humor in her current circumstances.

Lucy's mind sifted through her memories of all the stories her mom had told her and what she could remember from everything she'd ever read about Houdini. Per usual, it was like she had almost perfect recall. It still amazed her how much information she could retain. Not for the first time, she wondered if it was really a gift, or mainly because her mom had pushed her so hard from a very young age. How different would her life have turned out if her mom had just left her alone, if she'd left school to join that band, or listened to Amy and pursued her own path instead of their mom's footsteps? Would she have been recruited for this assignment in the first place if she had? Probably not, they wouldn't have much need for a college drop-out who didn't specialize in history. Lucy pushed those musings aside. She really didn't have time for them, not now. She had lives to save, so she redirected her mind back to the task at hand, and Harry Houdini.

Houdini was only in the second year of his career in magic and escape acts. Most of his more famous acts had not been performed yet. He was still six years away from his "big break." His handcuffs act impressed Martin Beck after a show in St. Paul, Minnesota in 1899, and Beck became his manager. That was when he began concentrating more on escape acts at Beck's advice. His fame rapidly rose from there, leading to performing the vaudeville circuit in the United States, becoming a top performer all over the country. Then, in 1900, Beck arranged a European tour. After an extremely successful demonstration at Scotland Yard of his escape from handcuffs and utterly baffling the police, he was booked at the Alhambra Theatre for six months. His salary was even raised to three-hundred dollars a week. A tidy sum for that time!

Lucy moved on to other famous escapes of Houdini, hoping one would help her get them out of this situation. In 1908, he introduced the Milk Can Escape. This included him being handcuffed and sealed inside an oversized milk can filled with water. The act proved to be a sensation, owing mostly to the fact that he had to hold his breath for so long to escape. It was eventually modified to where the can was locked inside a wooden chest, then chained and padlocked. It was a regular act for him for four years, but his brother, Theodore "Dash" Hardeen, performed it into the 1940s.

His most famous act, by far, was the Chinese water torture cell. In this escape, Houdini's feet were locked in stocks, and he was lowered upside down into a tank filled with water. The mahogany and metal cell featured a glass front, through which audiences could clearly see him. The stocks were locked to the top of the cell, and a curtain concealed his escape. In the earliest version of the torture cell, a metal cage was lowered into the cell, and he was enclosed inside that. While making the escape more difficult-the cage prevented him from turning-the cage bars also offered protection should the front glass happen to break. It was called the "Houdini Upside Down" and was first performed in 1912 in Berlin. Houdini performed this stunt until he died in 1926.

Lucy next thought of his escape from a suspended straitjacket. He would be strapped into a regulation straitjacket and suspended by his ankles from a tall building or crane. He would then make his escape in full view of the assembled crowd. Many of the times when he would perform this act, Houdini drew tens of thousands of onlookers who would bring traffic to a halt in the bigger cities. Once in New York, he performed this stunt from a crane being used to build the subway. After flinging his body in the air, he escaped from the straitjacket. Starting from when he was hoisted up in the air by the crane, to when the straitjacket was completely off, it took him two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. There was even film footage in the Library of Congress of him performing the escape.

While these escapes were all notable and amazing, Lucy dismissed them. There were no milk cans, torture cells, or straitjackets confining them, only fear and the threat of death. Both of which were highly motivating factors to their compliance of Flynn's demands and the number one reason to get away, but only after they stopped Flynn from planting his bomb.

_How am I going to get us out of this, _Lucy asked herself. _What do I do??? _The solution finally came to her. Harry Houdini was walking beside her. He had so many tricks up his sleeve (forgive the pun) and there _was _one she was certain would solve their dilemma. She wanted to slap herself. She should've remembered it sooner, she felt. She supposed the stress was finally getting to her, clouding her mind, making it more difficult to process what was happening around her and to come up with a plan of action. A plan that would save them all, hopefully.

Lucy first wanted Houdini to know how much she regretted involving him and explain why he was now in this predicament. "I'm so sorry to get you involved in all of this. These men, they're holding my friends hostage, and I didn't have a choice."

"I suppose it's my fault for wanting to believe you were really a fan," Houdini said. Lucy hated the thought he would think she was a liar. She truly was a fan of his.

"No, I am a fan. I think what you do is amazing." She paused, trying to figure out what to say next. "I got trapped under water once, and it was the most terrifying moment of my life. And you, you lock yourself up to entertain people for a living. How?" Lucy asked. She had no idea how he could confine himself like that and not panic.

"You wanna know the real trick?" Houdini asked. He then continued, "Fear isn't real." _How is fear _not _real? _Lucy thought.

"What do you mean?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Fear isn't what's actually happening, it's just your reaction to it." Houdini said. "So I clear my head. Think one, single thought."

"What's the thought?"

"Escape," he said solemnly.

Lucy felt this was her cue to bring up the way they might _escape_ with Flynn and Carl being none the wiser. "You also have this other trick. The Cutpurse, I believe it's called?" She asked as innocently as she could, looking away. "Maybe you could teach it to me sometime." She could see the comprehension on his face. He knew what she was trying to tell him! She wanted to shout with joy, but she kept her cool, not wanting to alert Flynn or Carl they had something _up their sleeve_, so to speak.

"That's right. I always did love that trick," he said, looking backwards. "I'll do just that."

Flynn's voice interrupted from behind them. "Stop. We're here." He moved to a door in the building to their left and said to Houdini, "You're up." Houdini walked past him and proceeded to pick the lock on the door. When he was finished, he looked to Flynn, swinging the door wide open, his face conveying his dislike of him and the situation, and, also, a bit of defiance.

Flynn wasn't fazed though, he never was. "My friend's gonna stay out here with the girl. You try anything, he kills her," he said as he pulled his gun from his pocket, then walked through the door. Lucy ignored his words. She didn't have the emotional capacity at that moment to deal with anything else.

Houdini looked at her, his expression serious. She nodded, and he gave her a small smile and a quick wink before he followed Flynn inside. _Good luck, Harry, _she thought as he disappeared. Relief flooded through her. _Maybe, just maybe, we'll get out of this. And then we can find Wyatt and Rufus...if it's not already too late. S_he shuddered at the thought. She felt they still had time to save them. Holmes liked to take his time with his victims, after all. It hadn't been all that long they'd been at the Murder Castle. There was a good chance nothing too horrible had happened to them, not yet anyway.

Now, Lucy had to wait. She was a slightly anxious mess on the inside, but she portrayed a calm exterior. She didn't think she'd be possible of it, but she pulled it off and stood there. _I just have to put my faith in Harry. _The thought calmed her greatly, because she trusted him wholly, and resigned herself to the fact she had to wait. Lucy hated waiting, she was an impatient person, but there was nothing else she could do. She didn't even look at Carl. Neither seemed in a talking mood, which was perfectly fine with her!

**For those of you who might not know, the Cutpurse Trick is just a fancy way to say pickpocket, a sleight-of-hand trick. I'd say it worked out well for them. :)**


	21. Seethingly Furious

So I've decided to not do a blow-by-blow of the episode anymore. We all know what happened so it honestly seems like a waste of time. Unless I feel like there's definitely something that needs added to a certain scene, it'll mostly just be my part of the story from here on out. Thanks so much for reading! :)

Seethingly Furious

Flynn-

Flynn was handcuffed to a pipe in the room he'd planned to plant the explosive in. He was furious, seething with an anger so great he almost couldn't see straight. He should've seen this coming, should've known Lucy would find a way to circumvent his plans. After all, she always did. He honestly thought he'd covered all of his bases this time, that he would succeed! He cursed that damn journal. Anger swept through him again as he recalled page after page of his failures. There was the tiniest part of him that wanted to throw the cursed book into a fire and never look back! He couldn't though, if there was _any_ chance of getting his girls back.

Another part of Flynn felt stupid, acknowledging that he should've remembered that Harry Houdini was a master escape artist. Of course Lucy would use that to her, or rather _their_, advantage. If he'd only kept a closer watch on them, hadn't let them walk together, giving them the opportunity to talk. Maybe then this wouldn't have happened! After Lucy had mentioned the Cutpurse trick, it should've been obvious she was up to something. He truly hadn't been paying that close of attention to what they'd been saying though. He was too caught up in watching their surroundings on the slim chance Logan and Rufus had miraculously escaped from the Murder Castle and were following them.

_I won't make that mistake ever again, _Flynn thought, vowing that he'd never again allow it to happen if they were, by chance, in a similar position. He would find a way to use it to _his_ advantage.

Looking around the room, Flynn tried to think of a way he was going to get out of this situation. Houdini had taken his weapons and him and Lucy were more than likely long gone, already trying to rescue her team from Holmes's death trap hotel. He hoped Carl was all right, he couldn't really afford to keep replacing his guys. Lucy wasn't a killer, not yet at least, so he didn't think she would seriously hurt Carl and Houdini wasn't that violent of a man. He was probably just knocked out and would have one hell of a headache later.

_That'll be the least of our problems if I don't get out of here, _Flynn thought, looking again for anything that would help him escape. He was weaponless and a sitting duck. Edison, Ford and Morgan would be here soon and no doubt they would summon the police. The odds of a fair trial and decent treatment were little in this time period, especially taking into account whose office he'd broken into. Even if they weren't Rittenhouse, they were still powerful and influential men. They wouldn't take too kindly to the fact he'd tried to crash their secret meeting. None of that mattered to him, however. They only thing that did would be the time he would lose if he was imprisoned for any duration.

It was a funny thing, time. It was ironic that Flynn had a time machine in his control and there were still instances when there wasn't enough of it. How strange that he could go to almost any point in history, change anything he wanted to, except he couldn't change the only thing he was desperate to alter. Flynn knew life wasn't fair, but this was a whole new level of unfair. He had the power to change the past, but was still unable to achieve his ultimate goals.

He'd already caused several changes to the timeline. John Wilkes Booth wasn't who shot President Lincoln, Bonnie and Clyde died in a different location than the original, Benedict Arnold and General Cornwallis had died long before their time therefore diminishing their roles in the American Revolution. And so many small changes they, not even him, would never know about. Hell, he'd saved the life of his half-brother! How is it he couldn't do the _one_ thing he wanted above all else?!? It was like some sick cosmic joke, having the ability to manipulate time in some ways but not others. Not in the way it _mattered_.

Flynn's thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open, revealing Thomas Edison, Henry Ford and J.P. Morgan.

...

Flynn rushed down the hallway to the back alley where he'd left Carl with Lucy. He knew she wouldn't be there, but he wondered if Carl had come to yet. The headache he would have was going to make him irritable, but Flynn couldn't blame him for that. The after effects of being knocked out weren't fun. He would know firsthand, as he'd learned in his adolescence. He'd liked to fight after school, but unfortunately, he wasn't very good to begin with and had his fair share of losses. His dad had teased him that he didn't have a future in boxing. With his skills now, Flynn felt he would be better suited to Mixed Martial Arts fighting. _Maybe in another life I've could've been famous,_ he thought briefly.

Spotting Carl laying on the ground, Flynn walked over and crouched down beside him. He gave him a rough shake to the shoulder, he didn't have time to be gentle about this. They needed to get out of there and quick!

Carl groaned, raising his hand to his eyes. Flynn didn't envy the headache and soreness Carl was no doubt feeling, but it was a non-issue for the moment. They had to leave and then once back to the present, he could recover in the warehouse.

"Carl, come on. We need to go right now. More police will be coming soon and we need to be gone before they get here. Otherwise, we're going to experience penal punishment of the 1890s if we don't, and, trust me, it wasn't pretty."

This statement grabbed Carl's attention because he opened his eyes then sat up with another soft groan. Flynn rose to his feet and held a hand out to help his right-hand man to stand. Once on his feet, they began walking quickly in the direction of the Mothership. They didn't walk fast enough to draw attention to themselves, however. It would look too suspicious if they ran. Flynn just wanted to leave. He wanted to take a shower, lay on his uncomfortable cot, and try to forget his newest failure.

The walk to the time machine and trip back to the present was silent. Neither Flynn nor Carl were in the mood to talk. They usually weren't anyway, but this time if was for much different reasons. Carl could only think about getting his hands on some painkillers and going to sleep. Flynn was trying to blank his mind out. If his body was exhausted, it was nothing compared to his mental exhaustion. All he wanted was to sleep and forget that, once again, he'd failed his girls.

...

Once back at the warehouse, Carl and Flynn went their separate ways to take care of their own needs. Flynn took a short shower, had a small meal, if only to keep up his strength, and laid down on his cot. He fidgeted around, trying to find the most comfortable position. He soon gave up because there wasn't one. He remembered sleeping in the bed at the hotel the night before and longed to be in a _real_ bed again and not on the metal and canvas torture device!

Flynn quickly shut that direction of thought down. Thinking about the bed would only lead to thinking of _what _had happened in that bed and he didn't want to think about that right then. It would do his mental state no good. He needed rest so he cleared his mind and willed himself to go to sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day and he would begin to plan the next trip and would pray he succeeded.

Involuntarily, the last image in Flynn's mind before he fell asleep was the form of a sleeping Lucy in his arms, a small smile on her lips, her expression peaceful. He fell into a deep and, fortunately, dreamless sleep.


	22. Sweet, Sweet Relief

Sweet, Sweet Relief

Lucy-

Lucy sighed as she stepped into the Lifeboat behind Rufus, Wyatt behind her. The relief was almost overwhelming it was so great. They settled into their seats and Wyatt leaned forward to help buckle her harness as he always did while Rufus powered the machine up for the return trip home. _Home_. She closed her eyes, truly relaxing for the first time since waking that morning. Her body and mind were so exhausted she half expected she might fall asleep for the short time it would take to get back to the present. The Lifeboat started its usual violent shaking, reminding her that she definitely wouldn't be falling asleep, no matter how tired she was!

Thinking back to the two trips Lucy had taken in the Mothership, how smooth they were, made her wish she was in it instead. She knew how irrational that thought was, because to be back in the Mothership would mean she would still be with Flynn and Carl. She was sure Carl would not be feeling very charitable towards her right now, since Harry Houdini had knocked him out and helped her escape and kept Flynn from murdering countless people today. The thought of how Carl would treat her after that made her uneasy. He hadn't exactly been friendly before, but now he'd probably be even more horrible to her.

Still being with Flynn, on the other hand, made her feel uneasy in an entirely different manner. It wasn't just that he'd be furious she'd derailed his plans, yet again, but mostly because of what had happened between them the night before. She'd interfered today, stopped him, so how applicable was his threat to kill her now. Was it even more so in effect? Lucy would like to say that no, Flynn would not kill her because of what he may feel about her, but the truth was that she didn't know that. While last night had meant something more than just sex to her, or that it might have been only a brief moment for Flynn, she didn't have the confidence to say it was enough he wouldn't make good on his threat.

Lucy closed her eyes as she sighed, wishing she knew the answer to that question. In all honesty, she probably didn't _want_ to know.

Wyatt's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You okay there, ma'am?" The concern in his tone was unmistakable.

She opened her eyes and gave him a small smile. He knew how much it annoyed her to be called 'ma'am'. Lucy suspected he'd said it to get a reaction from her.

"I'm fine." Wyatt raised his eyebrows, clearly letting her know he knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. She wanted to reassure him so she said, "All right, I'm not all the way fine, but I will be. After some food and a good night's sleep, I'll be okay." It would take time to get over the events of the day, especially almost being burned alive by Holmes, but that was to be expected.

Wyatt leaned forward and earnestly said, "If you need to talk about what happened today, I'm here for you."

Rufus then piped up as well, "Me too! I'm happy to lend an ear."

Lucy couldn't help the grin that came over her face. She was so lucky to have these friends, was grateful Harry, she couldn't help but think of him on a first name basis since he'd offered to make her his assistant (her grandma would be over the moon if she knew about that), had helped her rescue them, and was ecstatic that they were all still alive! Life felt pretty darn good in that particular moment. And these wonderful friends of hers were more than willing to let her talk about the tramuatic day and would probably even put up with it if she cried. It was the same thing she would do for either of them.

"Thank you both. I appreciate the offer, but all I really want right now is to get out of this dress, take a long, hot shower, get some food, and hopefully sleep for, like, two days straight." Wyatt and Rufus laughed at her list of her desires and she laughed along with them. It felt good. It felt like it had been a long time since she'd been with them, laughing and not feeling the pressure they usually did while on missions. Lucy always felt like the weight of the world was on their shoulders as they tried to prevent changes to the timeline. It haunted her how much damage the smallest change could do and how powerless she felt at not being able to stop them.

It wasn't a fair feeling, Lucy knew that. There was no way to predict or even know what small changes were made and how they would affect the future/present. Someone not catching a bus because of some reason Flynn or them had caused, or someone not meeting someone else, like with her mom and Henry Wallace, could change the course of a person's life. One person not dying when they originally had had erased her sister from existence and her mom was now healthy and not dying of lung cancer, all because one certain person had lived.

And Lucy felt absolutely wretched for being angry and bitter that someone's life had _not _ended. She tried to justify it by thinking the woman who'd originally died in the Hindenburg disaster was meant to die, therefore it was meant to happen that her parents, she would always think of them as her parents, got married and had Amy. Yes, it would mean her mom would now being lying in a comatose-like state and dying, but Amy would be there, and they would still have each other. It meant Lucy wouldn't feel as alone as she did.

Lucy decided to push the sorrowful thoughts away for the time being. They would be back eventually, but she wanted to focus on something positive right then.

"What do you two say to grabbing some dinner when we get back?" she asked.

An "I'm in," came from Rufus at the same time Wyatt said, "Sure."

Lucy then directed a question to Rufus. "Do you think Jiya would like to join us?"

"I'm sure she would," Rufus replied, swiveling his chair around to face them. They'd landed back at Mason Industries.

"Great. I'll hold off on taking my 'long, hot shower' in favor of a short one and we can go as soon as Agent Christopher releases us." _A long, hot bubble bath later would feel better anyway, _Lucy thought.

"Anywhere in particular sound good to you?" Wyatt asked her.

"Hmmm," Lucy hummed, taking a moment to think of what she wanted to eat. "How about Chinese?"

Wyatt smiled and nodded, Lucy returned the smile. It really was good to be back with her friends.

"Ping's Kitchen isn't too far from Mason. We got take-out from there a lot during the really long days, especially in the early days of the program, while we were working on the ships." Rufus said. "Either one of you been there?"

Both Lucy and Wyatt responded in the negative.

Rufus perked up and said, "Well, you're going to love it. They have egg rolls to die for," he said as if he was about to share the greatest pleasure life had to offer them.

Lucy and Wyatt looked at each other, sharing a silent look of amusement. The silence only lasted a short time because Rufus caught on that they were trying not to laugh at him and cried out in indignation, "What? They are!"

They both burst into laughter, not able to contain themselves any longer. _Oh, it's so good to be back, back where I _belong_, _Lucy thought as she laughed with the two men who were more than just her teammates. They were part of her family now.


	23. Sweet and Sour Chicken

Sweet and Sour Chicken

Lucy-

"You're dismissed," Agent Christopher said,"go home, get some rest."

Lucy, Wyatt, and Rufus rose from the long table in the conference room as one, each stretching their stiff bodies. The post-mission briefing had taken a little longer than usual since the team had been apart for the majority of it. Lucy had somehow been able to lie convincingly about how the night had passed, how Flynn had only kept watch over her under lock and key. She felt terrible about lying, but there was no way she could tell them what had actually happened.

It had been particularly difficult retelling the part when she'd been in the incinerator. Agent Christopher showed her concern, a more common occurrence as time went on, she clearly cared for team, and Mason had cringed. It had made Lucy feel strange, talking about _another_ near death incident. She almost wanted to laugh at the thought. It couldn't be considered a _normal _mission if one or all of them didn't face certain death. She worried that she considered it a laughing matter. It made her wonder if she and Rufus should seek some kind of counseling. Wyatt was more used to this kind of thing. Her and Rufus, not so much.

"Who's ready for some Mu Shu Pork?" Rufus asked jovially as they joined Jiya in the hallway, moving towards the exit of Mason Industries.

Jiya hummed in agreement as Wyatt said, "Definitely me."

They all looked to Lucy when she didn't say anything. She smiled, shrugged and said, "I'm more of a sweet and sour chicken kind of girl." This earned smiles from her companions.

Rufus and Jiya walked towads his car while Lucy and Wyatt went for their own. She stopped as she reached the door, wondering if she should really drive. She was so tired and driving extremely tired was comparable to driving drunk. Wyatt came to her rescue.

"Hey, do you want to ride with me? I can take you home and then bring you back tomorrow. You probably shouldn't be driving."

Lucy gave him a small smile. "Yes, thank you," she said, walking to his Jeep.

"Follow me!" Rufus shouted as he and Jiya got into his car. Wyatt and Lucy strapped their seatbelts and he pulled out behind Rufus.

The car ride was silent. Lucy could feel an awkwardness permeating the atmosphere between them, but at the moment, she just didn't have the energy to do anything about it. She knew Wyatt was most likely feeling guilty, that he felt he'd failed in his duty to protect her when he allowed her to go off with Flynn alone or that he didn't reach her before being forced into the Mothership. He probably also felt a needless guilt about Holmes taking her, even though there was no way they could've known he wasn't who he'd said he was. _She_ hadn't known he wasn't who he'd was! But that was what Wyatt did. He took his job protecting them seriously, especially ever since they'd all mended their relationship after their time during the French and Indian War.

Lucy was feeling a little stupid for having trusted Flynn in the first place on the mission before last, for thinking they could work together without it ending in disaster, which it did, mostly. There was also some guilt there as well. Before landing in Chicago, she knew there was something between her and Wyatt building, something maybe more than friendship. Wyatt was definitely in denial and Lucy wanted to protect her heart. It was more than clear he was not over his wife, no matter how long it had been since she'd passed.

And Lucy understood that. Jessica Logan had died a horrific death and Wyatt completely blamed himself, not wanting to give himself permission to move on. She'd felt like such a moron after they'd come back from Arkansas, when she'd talked about people being open to possibilities. Her heart had sunk when he'd said Jessica was his 'lighting bolt'. Since then, she'd tried to subtly put some distance between them emotionally. She still trusted him with her life, but she was sure she would only end up heartbroken if she trusted him with her heart.

Then there was the situation with Flynn. There'd always been a type of spark between them. Until last night, Lucy had denied it. Or chocked it up to being fear, not attraction. Now, however, she knew better. She just wasn't sure what it meant. She was spared from further thought when Wyatt pulled into a parking space beside Rufus, a charming little Chinese restaurant in front of them. Smiling, she exited the vehicle and walked with her little group inside.

Clearly recognizing Rufus and Jiya, an employee grinned as she greeted them. "Rufus! Jiya! So nice to see you again. I see you have some new faces with you. Welcome to Ping's Kitchen!" Lucy grinned at the friendly enthusiasm of the woman.

"Wyatt, Lucy, this is Ling, Ping's daughter," Rufus said, making the introductions.

"It's nice to meet you," Lucy said. Wyatt nodded, continuing to be the man of few words that he was.

Ling led them to a table in a corner and they all sat. After a short perusal of the menu for Lucy and Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya already knowing what they wanted, they ordered. It was a slow time of night so Ling came back out, chatting happily with them as they waited for their meal. It was pleasant conversation that didn't make Lucy think too much. She was grateful, her mind was beginning to feel like mush. Despite that she'd slept the night before, it didn't negate the stress of the day. It had taken a toll on her body and mind and she was feeling the effects of it now.

Their food came quickly and Ling left them to eat. It was more of the same light, joking banter and Lucy enjoyed it very much. It felt wonderful to just be out with friends, enjoying a simple meal. To not be racing a clock to avert some disaster or fighting for their lives, to be doing something _normal. _The four of them ate, but didn't spend an overly long time at the restaurant. Lucy was not the only one tired.

Splitting the bill four ways, they all said goodbye and parted for the night with reminders to check in with each other the next day. Lucy smiled, loving the way her team cared about each other. Like she'd thought earlier, they were more than a team, they were family. It was something she'd been sorely lacking since coming home to Amy being gone. She was more grateful than ever at the bond they'd all forged in the craziness that was their lives now.

Lucy and Wyatt were quiet again, but there was no awkwardness this time, the festive mood from dinner still enveloping them. They both seemed content to just be in each other's presence. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The radio was playing softly in the background and she let the motion of the car lull her to sleep.

She had no clue how long it took them to reach her mother's home, but what felt like all too soon, Wyatt's voice roused her from sleep. "We're here, Lucy."

Lucy opened her eyes to indeed see they were in front of the house. Wyatt put his vehicle into park and she knew he was going to make his apology now. She decided to beat him to the punch, absolve him of the unnecessary guilt he felt.

"Wyatt, I know what you're going to say and you don't need to, it's not your fault," she said.

"Of course it is, Lucy. I'm supposed to be there to protect you!" Wyatt exclaimed.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can watch us every second. Besides, I'm the one who decided to go after Flynn, to believe we could work with him in the first place," she parried back.

"But—"

"No buts, Wyatt," Lucy cut him off. They both fell quiet. Lucy was about to head inside the house when Wyatt spoke again.

"Did...did Flynn really hesitate when he was trying to kill John Rittenhouse?" The question surprised Lucy.

"Yes, he did. He's not a complete monster, Wyatt." She could see him about to make a retort so she quickly said, "Despite the horrendous things he's done, he's still a man, a man in a great deal of pain. If anyone can understand that, I think it would be you." She hoped he didn't think she was throwing Jessica's murder in his face. It wasn't how she meant her statement at all.

Thankfully he didn't because he sighed, his anger deflating. In a small voice he said, "Yes. Yes, I can understand that."

"I've been wondering if he was right, though."

"Right about what?" Wyatt asked, looking at her inquiringly.

"It was obvious that killing David Rittenhouse didn't change anything. So it begs the question of whether _we_ created the Rittenhouse we know today," Lucy said.

"How so?"

"Well, did killing his father and almost killing him create the monster or reinforce the teachings of his father. If left alone, would John have deviated from his father's ideas? It's the cause and effect model. I've been trying to wrap my brain around time travel, and it makes me wonder if history was _always_ predetermined, like I thought, or if there's some weird phenomenon where something happened the way it did because it was changed."

Wyatt chuckled. "Lucy, I'm really not following you here. Are you sure you didn't hit your head anytime in the last couple days?"

She laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure I didn't. Mason or Jiya would probably be able to explain it better than I can," she smiled at Wyatt's raised eyebrows, as if he were thinking, _Obviously_. She tried to think of how to get her point across. "Have you seen the movie _Looper _with Bruce Willis?"

Wyatt furrowed his brow, clearing thinking. "Um, is that the one where he's a hitman for the mob in the past or something?"

"Yes!" she said, glad there was a foundation to work from. "So they would send back people from the future who became a problem to the young version of Bruce Willis's character and he would kill them. And one day, the future him is sent back and escapes. At the end, it turns out the older character created the top guy who wanted him dead because of his actions in the past and what he did to the guy when he was just a little boy."

They were quiet while Wyatt pondered her theory. "You have a point, but I think you're right that this would be a discussion to include Mason, Jiya, and Rufus for a clear answer." He grinned at her.

Lucy didn't respond because her eyes were beginning to droop, exhaustion overtaking her.

"Go inside, Lucy, get some sleep. You definitely need it." Wyatt said.

Lucy couldn't argue. "Thanks for giving me a ride. I really appreciate it, Wyatt."

"No problem. Just give me a call tomorrow when you're ready to go get your car."

She smiled at him. "I will. Good night. Don't forget to text me so I know you made it home safely too."

Wyatt smiled back, a softness in his gaze. "Will do, ma'am. Night."

Once inside, Lucy barely had her shoes off before she collapsed into bed still fully dressed. She never even heard her phone buzz with the text from Wyatt ensuring her he arrived to his apartment.


	24. A Cabin in the Bluffwoods

**First of all, I'd like to apologize that it's been so long since I've put a chapter up. My one best friend had the baby and her twin sister, my other best friend, is also pregnant. I'm doing her shower as well so we've been doing a lot of planning the last few weeks. Plus, I've begun volunteering at my local hospital's cancer center once a week as a way to honor my grandma, who I was very close to and lost in April due to cancer. So between work, spending time with my friends and honorary niece, shower planning, and volunteering, it's been a bit crazy! The shower is in two weeks so I'll have some more free time to devote to writing after it's over. Please don't lose hope on this story, it's just taking much longer between updates lately. Thanks so much for being patient with me!!! :)**

A Cabin in the Bluffwoods

Flynn-

It had been a few days since coming back from Chicago and Flynn had spent it in research mode. He felt a need to be even more meticulous in his planning since these trips began. There was always a huge amount of things that couldn't be controlled, as it always was in life, but he was trying harder to have a better sense of what he was going into now. Especially since everything had a way of going sideways from almost the moment they landed.

He'd diligently tried not to think of Lucy in that time. Unfortunately, during the quiet hours after he tiredly laid his head down, he couldn't control his dreams anymore than he could control the weather. His dreams were filled of Lucy. It wasn't just their time in Chicago that he dreamed about, but everyday things that had never happened; mundane things that he could all too easily picture. Flynn dreamed of Lucy sitting at her desk in her Stanford office grading papers while waiting for meetings with students. He dreamed of her easy smile as she lectured. He dreamed of her being delighted at a new book she found in a bookstore.

Flynn also dreamed of the two of them doing things together. He dreamed of her trying to make a home-cooked meal and him laughing as she pouted at her failure, again. In his surveillance of her these past two and a half years, he'd noticed she hardly ever cooked, and if she did, it was something very, very simple. The thought amused him that this brilliant woman couldn't cook to save her life. He supposed there had to be something she wasn't perfect at. He knew he would enjoy teaching her to cook. It would no doubt take a lot of time, he didn't mind in the least, and burned meals, but he was confident she would eventually learn and become proficient at making his favorite Croation dishes. He dreamed of Lucy sitting on a sofa and reading, so lost in the book that she wouldn't immediately be aware he was in the room. But when she finally did notice his presence, her beaming smile would light up the darkest of places.

Those dreams always made Flynn angry because they brought on feelings of guilt. These were things he shouldn't be dreaming about. His dreams should be filled with Lorena and Iris and _their_ life together. He would curse his subconscious upon waking. It made him want to lash out at the world, as if he wasn't already, and he would attack his research with a new determination. _I don't care what that damn book says, I **will **get my girls back! _he would vow. But then his dreams would be of Lucy again and the cycle would repeat itself. It took a toll on his mind and made him weary. He felt like such an old man sometimes, far beyond his years.

Flynn's mind wandered to his phone call to Logan. After he'd had a chance to calm down after they came back from Chicago, he'd held up his end of the deal and given the information about Jessica Logan's murderer. He wondered if Logan had gone to see the man already. Most likely he had. Logan wasn't a man to waste time. He envied Logan that he could look the man who had destroyed his life in the eye. Flynn could only hope that one day he would have that chance, then he could kill the bastard.

His thoughts going down this path were counterproductive to what he needed to be doing so Flynn forcefully redirected his mind to the planning of the next trip. He was going to the Bluffwoods in Missouri, which were deep in Indian territory so he'd need more help than the ever-dwindling group of guys he had. He needed someone from the 1882 time period and could handle himself well with a gun. There was only one person in Missouri in that time Flynn knew who could be of any real help to him: Jesse James.

Jesse James was famous because of his outlaw days in the years following the American Civil War until his death on April 3, 1882. He was shot by Robert "Bob" Ford in the presence of his brother, Charley, in Jesse's own home after eating breakfast together before they were travel to conduct a robbery in Platte City. James was dusting a painting over the fireplace mantle and Bob Ford drew his weapon and shot him in the back of the head. The Ford Brothers had made a deal with Missouri Governor Thomas T. Crittenden. The bounty on James was $5,000. Quite a bit of money for the Ford Brothers and they made the deal for the reward money and immunity from the murder.

The timing would need to be precise, Flynn surmised. If history was correct and James knew the Ford Brothers were about to betray him and let Bob shoot him, then Flynn would need to stop them first. Or, if history was wrong and James didn't suspect a thing, Flynn needed to wait until they were about to shoot him. Guns in their hands would be hard to argue with. It was risky to do this. A second too soon or too late could mean death. That had never stopped Flynn before and it wouldn't this time.

They were lucky that Missouri still had large areas that were undeveloped so there would be no trouble landing and hiding the Mothership. They would just have to hope no hunters came along because they would have to shoot them to keep their location secret. Flynn didn't like the idea of shooting an innocent man just trying to provide himself and maybe his family with dinner. It was another necessary evil in a never ending cycle of "necessary evils." _That's all my life is now, _Flynn sighed at the thought. Neither Lorena nor Iris would recognize the man he'd become.

Flynn hardened at the thought. All that mattered was that he get them back and to do that he needed whoever was in the cabin in the Bluffwoods of Missouri. Feeling that he'd done all the research that he could and was prepared, he readied himself for the jump to St. Joseph, Missouri and to save the life of Jesse James.

**I'm sorry this is so short, but I wanted to get something posted. :) **


	25. Heaps of Guilt

Heaps of Guilt

Lucy-

Lucy pulled her hat over her head in the attempt to keep Wyatt and Rufus from talking to her anymore. She doubted she would get much sleep. Not just because she was on the cold, hard ground of Missouri, but because of the situation as a whole. Her dream about Amy and missing her birthday had shaken her up more than she'd wanted to admit to herself earlier. The guilt she felt over beginning to forget Amy was now compounded. Her life had become so complicated she could barely keep track of her thoughts anymore. So Lucy had turned to what she best since returning from Chicago.

Feeling like it was best to be prepared as they could on these missions, Lucy had started researching big events in history, hoping that it might be one of the places they were headed to next. St. Joseph, Missouri and the now non-murder of Jesse James had not even crossed her mind. She had absolutely no idea what could be in the Bluffwoods Flynn could want. Then again, they hardly ever knew until it was almost too late what he wanted. She was further dismayed at the fact that Jesse James was still alive and had killed more people who hadn't been fated to die today.

Yes, it was despicable that Bob Ford had shot James in the back of the head for money, but James was a bed person. At least if he'd died today like it had originally happened, he wouldn't have been able to kill more people. Besides, Bob Ford spent the next decade of his life in almost constant misery until he was finally shot and killed himself in what seemed like poetic justice to Lucy. So, in her opinion, it all balanced out. But then again, she was just a normal person, who was she to judge if it was fair that Bob Ford was killed specifically because he'd shot James like a coward?

She thought on the lives of the Ford brothers after originally committing the murder. For the first couple of years after killing James, the Ford brothers were famous. Bob earned money posing for pictures as "the man who killed Jesse James". Both brothers also spent a year touring theaters all over the country re-enacting the murder. It was very popular at first. Soon after the first year though, their popularity began to wane and people began to turn their opinion the other way. Bob became known as a coward for shooting James while his back was turned and the brothers were looked down upon for betraying their leader for money.

About two years after the murder, Charley was suffering from tuberculosis and was addicted to morphine. He committed suicide on May 4, 1884. Bob moved around the country for the next eight years opening and closing saloons. The day after Christmas in 1889 an assassination attempt was made when someone tried to slit his throat in Kansas City, Kansas. It's unknown if it was related to James's death or not. Then, on June 8, 1892, a man named Edward O'Kelley entered Ford's tent saloon in Creede, Colorado with a shotgun. He fired both barrels at Ford, killing him instantly. The man then became known as "the man who killed Robert Ford". The inscription "The man who shot Jesse James" was put on Bob's grave marker.

As neither brother were involved in criminal behavior after being pardoned for the murder of James, Lucy felt they were an infinitely better choice to still be alive than James. That couldn't be helped now, though, so all they could do was try to catch up to Flynn and James, find out the objective, attempt to stop it, capture James and put him away so he couldn't kill anyone else. Lucy just hoped he didn't find a way to escape prison. She would feel responsible if he wasn't stopped.

Lucy agreed with Wyatt that James shouldn't be allowed to continue killing people whenever he felt like it, but she agreed with Rufus more that killing for them, the "good guys", should be harder than it was for the "bad guys". She knew how much it haunted Rufus that he'd killed someone. Yes, he'd done it in self-defense, but she knew that didn't make Rufus feel any better. And she couldn't help but remember what she'd thought after coming back from Chicago, that her and Rufus weren't used to death like this. She also knew that Wyatt wasn't as unaffected as he claimed. It was understandable that he tried to pass it off like it wasn't a big deal anymore, he was in Delta Force and it was part of his job, but she'd seen the look in his eyes when Reeves made his comment about seeing the men he killed everyday. It was obvious Wyatt, while necessary, felt the lives he took deeply. She was glad, it made him human and made her respect him all the more for it.

Lucy's thoughts rolled back around to her feelings of guilt. There were so many reasons to feel guilty that she felt there were piles of guilt heaped upon her. There was guilt that they hadn't been able to prevent all the changes that had been made to history. There was guilt for the people they had lost, even though most times it was beyond their ability to save them. There was guilt that by wanting Amy back would mean her mom would be dying again. There was new guilt because she thought she was beginning to forget about Amy. There was guilt about lying to her team about her night with Flynn.

And therein lay the problem for Lucy. The guilt she felt the most was the fact that she _didn't _feel too guilty for what happened with Flynn. Guilt because she was glad that it had happened. She'd been so wrapped up in trying to forget about her confusing feelings surrounding Flynn that she'd pushed almost everything else out of her mind. That's part of what she attributed to why she forgot about Amy's birthday. No matter how much she'd tried to forget, she couldn't. She'd found that every so often during her research her mind would drift to a little hotel room in Chicago, to how it'd felt to have Flynn's body against her own, the way their bodies had rocked together until finding mutual ecstasy. Just thinking about her night with Flynn, even days later, still made her body tingle with desire.

Lucy's cheeks warmed in embarrassment. She was eternally grateful that her hat covered her face. She was sure there wasn't enough firelight for the others to notice anyway, but there was always a chance one of them would. She also became acutely aware Wyatt was sitting only a few feet away from her. There was a small part of her that couldn't help but feel like she'd betrayed him. Until that moment, she'd successfully denied the voice whispering that. She knew it was stupid to feel that way. Wyatt had made it brutally clear that he did not return her view of their relationship having romantic possibilities.

Lucy cringed as she remembered their talk after coming back from Arkansas. That was the night she should've firmly put a stop to those feelings. There was no way she'd be able to compete with the paragon that was Wyatt's dead wife. She knew that Wyatt and Jessica had had their problems, as all married couples did, but that didn't negate the fact that he was a loving husband. There was also no doubt that he would've been a wonderful father, if given the chance. Any woman would be lucky to have Wyatt as their significant other. Lucy knew that woman would never be her though.

Lucy adjusted her body, trying to find a more comfortable position. She gave up, knowing it was futile. She was infinitely glad she'd taken the corset off when she'd changed into "men's" clothing. So at least there wasn't that factoring into her discomfort. The cold, hard ground of Missouri was unforgiving and she suspected that neither she nor her companions would get much sleep that night. Hoping to force herself to get some rest, she began counting down from one hundred. It worked as she'd hoped and somewhere in the mid-thirties, she fell into a thankfully, if not entirely restful, sleep.


	26. By the Firelight

**So I'm back with another chapter! I needed to take a much needed breather after the shower was over. Now I'll be able to concentrate more on my writing and post more frequently. :)**

By the Firelight

Flynn-

Flynn was lying on his side on the ground and facing the campfire to keep warm. James was fast asleep on the other side, apparently not having any trouble sleeping after killing, no, _murdering_, Flynn corrected in his mind, so many people today. A week ago Flynn wouldn't be feeling as much remorse as he did while staring into the flames flickering in front of his face. There was always a certain amount of guilt he felt. He wasn't a cold-blooded killer as much as Homeland Security had made him out to be. Yes, he killed people, but there was a _reason. _Not a single death had been for the sole purpose of just killing them like sport; not the way James seemed to relish the kill and showing off his _skills. _

It had all seemed so simple in the beginning; follow the journal, take down Rittenhouse. _And get my girls back, _Flynn added to himself. The Lucy who had given him the journal had said that he wouldn't get his family back, but he was determined after reading about so many failures that he would _somehow _defy what she'd said. But, as time went on, it was looking like she was right. And it broke his heart all over again. While Flynn was a deadly man, he was not heartless.

His guys only looked at him as a payday. Karl seemed to believe in his cause to take out Rittenhouse, but he wasn't like Flynn. There was no personal stake in it for him. The only person who looked past all of that and looked at _him _was Lucy Preston. Being with her in Chicago had changed almost everything for Flynn. It was a sobering and heartbreaking realization when he knew he should start preparing himself to never see Lorena and Iris ever again. He felt like he was betraying them by giving up, by having his mind filled with Lucy.

Flynn's mind returned to some of the pages of Lucy's journal that he hadn't ever really paid much attention to until they'd come to mind a few days ago. They all had to do with 'fate' and things that were 'meant to be'. Some of it had concerned Logan and his wife, but some of it had been just questions in a general aspect, like she was trying to make sense of something she couldn't quite understand and the answer was just out of reach. It hadn't seemed relevant so he'd mostly ignored it after reading it the first time. It wasn't a section that he'd dog-eared for importance.

Two nights ago Flynn had picked the journal up and began reading that section in particular. He wondered if she'd dedicated so many pages to the subject because she'd needed to write her thoughts about it so much or if it was really more for him. Maybe that the pages had been there for his benefit, like she knew he would be having these thoughts himself, as if he'd told her of his struggles in the future. This wasn't the first time Flynn wondered how many things might've been added to the journal just for him. Sometimes there were passages that didn't seem to have much significance to the entry, but he'd found to be words he needed to read after jumping back to the present. The journal had come to feel like more than just a tool to take down Rittenhouse, like it partly had been written _for _him.

Flynn rolled onto his back thinking about how many people had died today. People who hadn't been 'fated' to die yet. He couldn't help thinking about how many things had changed in the future, what those people would've done with their lives if given the chance to live them out. He wasn't all that concerned about the Ford brothers. They were despicable to kill their leader for money, so he didn't feel too bad about killing them. They both had miserable lives after today so he figured he just ended their misery sooner rather than later. That _was_ a bit harsh, but he mused that while he wasn't completely a monster, he was _still_ a killer, after all.

Thoughts then rolled around to how Lucy would feel when they came upon the bodies of the Native Americans they'd killed. There was no doubt it was known that the two Marshalls had been killed by James, and therefore his fault, as well. She would no doubt be horrified and saddened by both. He didn't blame her, he felt the same way. Maybe on a smaller scale, but he still felt it all the same. There was a metaphorical tug on his heartstrings, now happening more often, as he thought of Lucy. He thought of the gentle and genuine smiles she'd given him in Chicago. He thought of how good it'd felt to have a normal and real conversation with her. He _didn't _allow himself to think of more than that, however. Now was definitely not the time. Thinking of Lucy in that way while sleeping only a few feet from a killer with no conscience felt like sacrilege.

Flynn's thoughts turned next to his conversation with James before they'd entered 'Indian Territory'. How James had said he used his cause just to be a killer. He'd dismissed the words at first, but now they came back to him. And he really thought on them. _Am I truly just a killer? _Flynn asked himself for the first time that all this had started. Sure, he'd killed before stealing the Mothership, but that had been different. He was in the military then part of the government. It was part of his job. Did that make it completely okay? No, never. But it wasn't like he was doing now. He didn't have the authority from the government to kill. If there was any _permission, _some people would argue that it would be Lucy, the future Lucy, of course, who gave it.

Flynn knew that was unfair, though, to put the blame at Lucy's feet. She didn't force him to follow the journal. He could've thrown the book away after she left and could still be drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. But here he was, in Missouri in 1882 with a murderer who should be dead and enabling him to kill more people. And not only that, but he'd been careless enough to let James get a glimpse of the modern rifle he'd brought with him. Understandably, James had been a little too excited at seeing a weapon like that. Lucy would be so disappointed in him for allowing that to happen.

And that was the crux of the issue Flynn realized, the reason he couldn't sleep. Before Chicago, he would **not** be doing this! He wouldn't be questioning his decisions, doubting almost everything he was doing. As infuriating as it was, Flynn knew it was a good thing that he did. It showed that his humanity was not completely gone. But it now made things so much more difficult. His night with Lucy made him simultaneously curse and thank every God that might be in existence. It was a night he needed and didn't need, so therefore, it was a conundrum.

Flynn shook his head to clear it. Looking up to the stars above him made him think of how small he was in the vast universe. He was so insignificant in that context. What he was trying to do was minuscule in comparison, but right now, what he was trying to do for the world, that was big. He really was trying to make a better world. No one could see that right and he would probably never receive any recognition or thanks for it, but it was the right thing to do. That knowledge was what kept him going on this path, kept him from giving up altogether.

Once again, it was very important that Flynn got some sleep. So he turned his back to the fire and forced his mind to go through the steps of cleaning his gun. It was a boring process, something he could practically do in his sleep, and it did the trick. He was soon asleep.

...

The crew was back at the abandoned church and winding down from their latest jump. Emma Whitmore, who he'd gone to bring back from 1882, was settling in. She'd eaten and showered, and was regaling his guys with stories of her time in the past. She apparently loved the sound of her own voice and Flynn had to get away from her. Knowing what he did made his skin crawl and he'd needed to be by himself. He supposed that for the sake of the future, whatever future that was, he needed to let things play out the way they did in the journal. It was the biggest leap of faith that he'd ever taken, but he had faith in Lucy, so he decided to trust her. He lay on his cot and began thinking over everything that had happened in 1882.

Flynn knew he was not a righteous man, far from it, but telling Jesse James that killing Bass Reeves would be good for his reputation was reprehensible, even by _his_ standards. The man was the inspiration for the Lone Ranger series! One which Flynn loved. It was a shame that Grant Johnson, the inspiration for Tonto, had died, but it was what it was. And worse yet, he'd left the rifle with James. He was glad that he didn't have to worry at that, at least. Lucy and her team would never allow a modern weapon stay in the past so there was no chance it would be found by another.

Flynn also knew that by saving the life of James the day before had made Lucy a murderer today. He could hear her crying from the bugs he'd placed in her mother's house well over a year ago. It was on a constant feed and saved for him to listen to later. He'd donned the headphones when he'd come to his room and her sobs were muffled, he assumed by a pillow so she wouldn't wake her mother. These sobs weren't an archived file, though. They were live and Flynn's heart went out to her. He could remember the first time he'd killed someone. While they were under vastly different circumstances, mostly to the fact that he'd had 'permission', it still never left you. And this would never leave Lucy, and it was his fault.

Lucy had been the one to pull the trigger on an unarmed James, but if Flynn hadn't 'saved' him in the first place, Lucy never would've felt like she had to in order to put the timeline to rights. And Flynn knew he was never going to be able to justify making her into a murderer to her, to himself, or anyone. But he didn't think he should, so he punished himself by listening to her cry. It was in no way an apt punishment, it was far less than what he deserved, but it was all he could do in this moment. More fitting was the knowledge that this could never be undone now, that no matter what else, good or bad, Flynn did with his life, he would always know that he was the man who had orchestrated the circumstances for Lucy Preston to kill a man for the first time.

Flynn was still awake and staring at his ceiling hours after the quiet sobs on the other end of the feed faded into light breathing. Other than when his family had died, he'd never felt more wretched.

**Just a heads up, it's probably going to be about two or three weeks in between updates from now on until I finish the story. Thanks so much for reading! :) **


	27. Surrounding Darkness

Surrounding Darkness

Lucy went through her routine of readying herself for bed like she was on autopilot. She'd been numb since the moment she'd pulled the trigger and killed an unarmed man. However, now that she was in bed, her mind relived being in the Bluffwoods all over again. She'd been trying to justify to herself that Jesse James was a bad person and that she'd done only what history needed to be done, that she gave justice to those he'd killed, that she'd saved more lives by doing what she did.

It was a flimsy argument, Lucy knew that, but it had been the only reason she hadn't broken into sobs the moment the smoke had cleared and she realized that she'd just become a murderer. Because there was no justification in the world where shooting a man in the back who'd surrendered was not cold-blooded murder. No matter how many people James had killed and would kill, she had stooped to his level, resorting to a gun and death when there was always the higher road to take; the road Marshall Bass Reeves had wanted. She cringed knowing that the inspiration behind the Lone Ranger thought of her as a disappointment to humanity.

While going through the debriefing with Agent Christopher when they'd gotten back was horrible. It had been hard for Lucy to admit that she'd shot Jesse James in the back. The room had been so silent it was almost eerie. Agent Christopher had been understanding while giving her a look of sympathy. Lucy felt she didn't deserve that understanding and sympathy. She wasn't like Rufus and Wyatt. She hadn't killed in self-defense or because their lives were being threatened. She could only admit to herself that there was a small part of her which wanted revenge for Grant being killed before his time, for those others who'd been killed since Flynn had saved James.

Wyatt had hardly looked at Lucy since his stunned look after he'd realized it was her who'd shot James. She couldn't imagine what he thought of her now and she didn't want to know. Part of her knew that he was partially blaming himself because he hadn't done it himself, that at the last minute he'd been a better person. It was incredibly ironic she thought. The night before he'd been the one arguing they should betray Marshall Reeves and shoot James on sight and he was unable to do it in the end. He would feel that he'd failed, again, and Lucy was a murderer because of him. It was what he did.

After they'd been dismissed Wyatt gave her a look Lucy knew meant he wanted to talk to her. It was the same look he'd given her when he'd taken her home after eating with Rufus and Jiya. She couldn't stomach the thought of him trying to apologize so she'd practically ran from Mason, Inc. She half expected him to call her or show up at her house but he hadn't. She only felt relief that he hadn't.

Her mom wasn't home when Lucy had gotten there and that was another huge relief. She didn't think she'd be able to look her mother in the eye without her knowing something was terribly wrong with her daughter. And Lucy knew that if her mom asked what had happened to her that she would spill everything with no regard for the NDA she'd signed.

Lucy was staring sightlessly, letting the darkness of the room surround her. Sleep would not come no matter how much she wished for her. She was actually a little afraid to go to sleep, though. Peace from the pain she felt in her heart would not likely happen in sleep either. It had been a day now since she'd murdered someone, and yet she hadn't cried. That probably meant that something was wrong with her. Crying meant you were human, and now she felt like a monster.

Vaguely, Lucy wondered if this was how Flynn felt. She thought that it must be, or at least how he'd felt in the beginning. She wondered if he was used to it by now. _No, I don't think so, _she thought. If anything, Flynn was most likely just resigned to what he'd done and was still doing. It was in that moment she realized that what she wanted more than anything right then that she wished she could talk to Flynn about this. Or, better yet, maybe instead of talking she would kiss him, lose herself in his touch the way she had in Chicago.

On one level Lucy knew that was wrong. Flynn should be the last person she'd ever want to go to for comfort. A bubble of hysterical laughter almost escaped her at the thought of going to Flynn for comfort. It was such a ridiculous notion. Or it would've been a week ago. The rational part of her brain knew that if she went to anyone it should be Wyatt, but she just couldn't. He was her teammate, her friend, and she couldn't go to him with this. That thought was what finally broke the dam on the emotion she'd been suppressing and sobs wracked her body.

Lucy had no idea for how long she cried. She only knew that by the time she fell asleep with her body curled around itself, her pillow was soaked with tears. She was completely unaware that miles away in an abandoned church, Flynn was listening with his heart breaking for her. She was unaware that he was so affected that he almost left his sanctuary and came to her, wanting to offer any comfort he could, whether it be a shoulder or holding her tightly so she knew she was not alone.

If he had come to her though, Lucy would've gladly, willingly accepted his support. Who knows the possibilities the future could've held if he had.


	28. Coffee and Conversation

Coffee and Conversation

Flynn-

Flynn sat in the chair in the corner of his little offset room with a mug of coffee in his hands. The abandoned church they were set up in had been remodeled at some point to have had a kitchen and meeting place added. A generator was used to power the applicances so they could at least make decent meals for themselves as they kept a reasonably well stocked refrigerator. And a coffee maker, as well. _Coffee is what makes the world go round, _Flynn thought in amusement as he took a long sip of the hot, bitter brew. He took it black, something his friends had joked before this mess had started that he liked it that way because his soul was also black. He couldn't help but think of the irony of how right they were.

Flynn had come back to the room after getting a mug under the pretense of reading Lucy's journal again, but he wasn't getting much reading done, however. After he'd woken up, he'd gone to the computer to do research about the new circumstances of the death of Jesse James. It was then that he'd found the picture of his body with Lucy partially in it. It made him wonder if anyone she knew had come across that photo and thought it was amazing that an ancestor, which would be the only explicable reason to them, who looked uncannily exactly like Lucy Preston, had been there. Looking at that photo had reminded him again that it was his fault that she'd become a killer.

That was the reason he hadn't been able to do anything productive yet, except to brood over his coffee. It was then that Karl came into the room. Usually the other guys would leave Flynn alone when he went in there, knowing he liked to be by himself. Karl, on the other hand, was the only one, the only one brave enough, who disregarded that fact. Flynn actually considered Karl to be his only friend, but it was still wasn't a friendship built on years of trust like most normal friends. Still, he was the only person Flynn felt he could talk to and share more of his thoughts with.

"So, our newest resident is regaling the others with more stories about her decade in the past," Karl said, clearly unimpressed. It nearly made Flynn smile.

Flynn also knew that wasn't the real reason Karl had come in there. It was probably more like a guise just to check on him. Flynn found that he actually appreciated that.

"You'd think she wouldn't have that many since she claimed to be alone almost the whole time," Flynn said with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, I've noticed she likes to talk a lot. But I guess I might like to talk a lot too if I'd been alone that long," Karl replied. Flynn could detect no sympathy in Karl's tone though. "I figured I'd find you in here listening to the feed from the Preston house again."

_Ah, so _that's _the reason he's in here, _Flynn thought. "No, I checked a little earlier and Lucy wasn't up yet. I came in here to read her entry about the next trip."

Karl gave him a smirk and Flynn realized it was because that while the journal _was _beside him on the cot, it wasn't even opened, making it clear he was lying. _Shit, _Flynn thought.

"Don't you have that thing memorized yet?" Karl asked, not bothering to hide his amusement, but choosing to let the lie slide. Everyone knew it was best to pick your battles and apparently this was one Karl didn't want to pick with Flynn.

"It doesn't hurt to go over the details again," Flynn replied nonchalantly. The truth was more that he just liked seeing Lucy's handwriting since he _did_ know most of the journal by heart now. They were both quiet for a few minutes.

The silence was broken by Karl when he quietly said, "Flynn, you know it's not your fault she killed him." Flynn sighed. He'd hoped to not have this conversation, but he knew Karl was just trying to be a friend to him and make him feel better. Nothing would ever make him feel better, though.

Flynn closed his eyes and said, "You know it's not that simple, Karl." He opened them to look straight at him and said, "I may not have forced her to pull the trigger, but it was still because of me that she did. _I'm _the one who changed history, and you know as well as I do that she felt like she had to correct that. She would feel responsible if he was able to escape from prison, which I have no doubt he eventually would have, and had killed more people. She's not one to let innocent people die, not if she can help it."

They both knew that was the absolute truth of Lucy's character. It made Flynn admire her all the more for it and he thought that Karl probably felt the same way. Karl didn't relish the kill just like he didn't, but they both knew there was no way that they couldn't kill people doing what they were. It was just a simple fact and they both accepted it as well as they could, finding a way to live with their actions. Flynn appreciated having Karl around, too. He was a light-hearted fellow and did his best to liven the mood when all he felt like doing was brood, like this morning. It felt good to have the companionship of someone to have a beer with and sometimes talk about things of little consequence. It wasn't often that they let go like that, but it happened on occasion. Plus, he was definitely handy to have on the trips. He dealt more with the others on their team when they were between jumps, which was something Flynn would loathe to do. He wasn't the best team player. _Well, _he thought grimly, _not yet, anyway. _

Karl let out a sigh of his own, one of defeat. Flynn was glad that Karl wasn't going to try to argue with him, he really didn't think he had it in him. He felt so weary, a man beyond his years. They were both silent for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Flynn's were still caught up in Lucy and Jesse James and Karl was thinking how he was going to keep Flynn from sinking further into his dark thoughts.

Stepping further into the room, Karl took a seat in the lone chair in the room facing Flynn. He settled himself into the uncomfortable chair, like every piece of furniture in their hideout, before he said, "So, we're going to Paris next, right?"

"Yes," Flynn said. "May of 1927."

"And we're shooting down Charles Lindbergh's plane before he's supposed to land?"

"That's the plan," Flynn said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at how many times things did not go 'according to plan.'

"And what's the purpose we need him again for?" Karl asked.

Flynn knew Karl already knew the answers to his questions. He was trying to keep him talking instead of brooding and Flynn decided to let him.

"With how highly connected his family is in Rittenhouse, he'll have the information of when the next summit is for all of the highest ranking members of the time." With luck, which was hardly ever on his side, Flynn thought that maybe there was a chance the father of the man who ordered his family to be killed would be there, and if Flynn could eliminate him, then it was possible the hit on his family would never take place. It was a long shot, Flynn knew it, but he still needed this information. Lucy's journal had not provided it, making it necessary for these jumps to take place. Lucy from the future wouldn't hand him a journal where she'd done _all_ the work for him.

"Just how are you planning on getting the information from him? Torture?" This was the part Flynn had not mentioned before now when they'd been discussing strategy for what they did during their time in the past.

"It seems I have to take advantage of Lucy's good nature and use it against her," Flynn said, the self-reproach evident. He could see Karl raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Hmm," was all Karl said for a moment. "How do you plan to do that?"

"Her, Rufus and Ernest Hemingway are going to follow Emma close to where we're hiding, and you are going to take Lucy and bring her to where I'm 'holding' an injured Lindbergh."

"_The _Ernest Hemingway? The great American writer and poet who committed suicide?" Karl asked.

"The one and only," Flynn replied, not surprised Karl dismissed the fact that he was going to take Lucy against her will and was more impressed that _another _famous person in history was involved in their antics. Karl wouldn't ever admit it, but Flynn had been able to tell that while he'd been nervous about Lucy trying to get away, he'd enjoyed Harry Houdini's show in Chicago and he'd been just as awe-struck, though well hidden, as Flynn had been. He was serious when the time came to be back to business as usual, and he'd definitely not appreciated the headache he'd had after being knocked out by the escape artist, but it was still pretty cool to have been in his presence.

Karl didn't ask anymore questions so Flynn decided to go ahead and reveal more of the plan without being prompted. "Lucy is going to 'talk me out of' torturing the information from Lindbergh and I'm going to let her try to talk to him before I resort to it. But she's not going to know that we'll have the room bugged and everything they say will be recorded so I never have to lift a finger toward the writer."

"Well," Karl said speculatively, "that's awfully sneaky and _generous _of you." Karl smirked. "I have no doubt you'll play your part of the almost-torturer well."

Flynn couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Yes, he certainly would be good at 'playing' the bad guy. He did think it was a bit unkind to trick Lucy the way he was, but he felt it was kinder to let her think she'd saved Lindbergh considerable pain.

Karl's next words surprised Flynn a bit as they had absolutely nothing to do with what they'd been talking about. "I'm going to make spaghetti with my grandmother's famous Swedish Meatballs for lunch. I'll come get you when it's ready if you don't venture out from here before it's done."

Flynn gave his friend a small smile and said, "That sounds great. I'll see you then." Karl gave a nod and left the room without another word.

While his life had gone to hell and it was soon going to get even worse, Flynn was glad he had a friend like Karl, who was not content to let him devolve into an even more dark and bitter person than he currently was. _The Swedish Meatball recipe doesn't hurt, either,_ Flynn thought with a smile. Karl's grandmother had been one hell of a cook, her meatballs speaking for themselves. He was glad that he could still enjoy the simple things in life, like looking forward to a good meal of spaghetti and meatballs.

**Merry Christmas everyone! :) **


	29. The Harsh Light of Day

The Harsh Light of Day

Lucy-

Lucy woke to sunlight flooding her room. In her inattentiveness the night before, she'd forgotten to close her curtains. The bright light was harsh to her eyes, almost swollen shut due to crying herself to sleep. Her nose felt stuffy and her head throbbed as well. She half expected to start crying again as she remembered that she'd woken up a murderer, so it was surprising that she didn't. All she felt was empty.

Not having looked at the clock yet, Lucy had no idea what time it was. Judging by how bright the sunlight was, she figured that it was past noon. She usually never slept very late, but today she had no desire to get up, no desire to do anything but stare at her wall and try to make her mind as blank as possible. If she didn't think of anything, then she couldn't feel anything. To feel nothing was all that Lucy wanted. There was no telling how long she'd laid there, but she decided to get up when her stomach started rumbling.

After leaving her bed, she realized how badly she needed a shower. She'd washed her face and brushed her teeth before going to bed, but the rest of her body was in desperate need of soap and hot water, having been a few days since being properly clean. It was what made her decide to take a shower before seeing to breakfast. _Or lunch, I suppose, _she thought.

A good while later, after an unusually longer time spent under the flow of hot water, Lucy was in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The doorbell ringing startled her a little. She was a little hesitant to answer as she was in a pair of pajamas and her robe, her hair still wrapped up in a towel. She usually preferred not to be seen dressed so, but in her current emotional state, she was sure she wouldn't care if the Queen of England saw her as she was.

Lucy had assumed the person at the door would be for her mother or a delivery, so it was a bit of a shock when she opened the door to an almost frantic looking Wyatt.

"Lucy!" he practically shouted. "Are you okay?"

She looked at him, puzzled. It felt like a stupid question. He should _know _that while she might by physically fine, she was definitely not mentally.

"Yes," she said, "why wouldn't I be?" She felt it was best to answer his question as simply as possible.

Wyatt's reply was in an unmistakably worried tone. "Because I've been texting you all day and you haven't responded at all!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't look at my phone after I woke up and I left it upstairs. I would've messaged you back if I'd known." It was most likely a lie, she really didn't want to talk to him, but Lucy didn't want to admit it. It would probably hurt Wyatt's feelings that she didn't want to talk to him. There was only one person she would've wanted to talk to and not only would Wyatt not understand, she had no idea how to contact _him_ in the first place.

Neither Lucy nor Wyatt said anything for several moments. Knowing that the awkwardness would only get worse as time went on without speaking, Lucy made the decision that she would face this head on. She needed coffee first, though.

"Would you like to come in? I've just made some coffee," she said.

Obviously feeling relief that they weren't immediately jumping to the conversation he came to have, Wyatt nodded and stepped into the foyer after Lucy moved aside. She closed the door and silently Wyatt followed her to the kitchen. Feeling ridiculous, Lucy released her hair from the towel as she walked, combing her fingers through it to make it look a little more presentable. Under normal circumstances, Wyatt would probably make a wise-ass remark at the small amount of vanity that action betrayed, and she would've laughed along with him, but these were not normal circumstances.

Once reaching the kitchen, Lucy indicated for Wyatt to sit at the island counter, which he did, and she proceeded to get another mug down from the cabinet. She poured the hot brew into the mugs, adding some sugar and cream into hers, before joining him. Wyatt took a sip of the straight black coffee and she almost shuddered, not understanding how he could stand to drink the stuff like that. She supposed that being in the military and not always having sugar or cream available made it a necessity to drink and eat many things plain.

Both Lucy and Wyatt sat, quietly sipping their coffee. She vaguely wondered if maybe he was waiting for her to speak first like the last time. It was completely different now. This time Lucy was too emotionally drained to speak first. So if there was to be any talking done, Wyatt would be the one to initiate it. She decided they would sit there until Wyatt said something or the coffee ran out, whichever happened first.

Wyatt-

Wyatt sat quietly in Carol Preston's kitchen as Lucy poured coffee for them. In his haste to make sure that she was okay after not hearing from her all day, he hadn't stopped to really think about what he was going to say. How did you apologize to a person who felt like more than family that they had to kill someone because you couldn't? It was essentially his job, to do the things Lucy and Rufus _shouldn't _have to do. And he'd roayally screwed that up, again!

When Flynn had kidnapped Lucy, it had also been his fault. He hadn't protected her as well as he should've. Flynn had offered the deal of telling him who'd murdered Jess and he'd let the hope of getting his wife back cloud his judgement to the point that he'd been willing to risk their safety and to work with their enemy. He should've just shot Flynn and been done with it! Now he was dealing with the consequences of his own making. One of those turning Lucy into a killer. It was definitely not something he'd foreseen when he'd lowered his gun from Jesse James. He hadn't believed what he'd seen at first. Lucy standing there with a gun in her hands with the look on her face of a person asking themselves what had they just done.

That look on her face had broken his heart because it was a look he recognized all too well. It was the look he'd seen on faces of fellow soldiers their first time in combat, the realization of the stark reality that they'd just done something they couldn't ever take back. A look he was certain had been mirrored on his own face. It was an expression that never should've crossed Lucy's delicate features. And now he had to talk to her about it, to say he was sorry that it had, and he had absolutely no idea how to even begin.

When they'd come back from Chicago, he'd practically been chomping at the bit to talk to her. It was only because of the short ride to the Chinese restaurant that he hadn't tried and then she'd fallen asleep on the way to her house. And then she'd surprised him by absolving him of his much deserved guilt before he'd even had a chance to say anything! But that was Lucy and her gracious forgiveness, her innate goodness. She truly hadn't seen him being at fault, no matter how much he disagreed with her.

This time, Wyatt couldn't help but wonder if maybe she _did _think it was his fault and that was the reason she hadn't messaged him back or didn't seem inclined to speak to him since inviting him inside. He was halfway surprised that she hadn't slammed the door in his face or, at the very least, told him she just wanted to be alone for now. He wouldn't have blamed her if she'd done either. But she hadn't and it was obvious that she wasn't going to speak first. He supposed it was part of a just punishment.

They spent a few minutes silently sipping their coffee. The bitter drink served to remind him of what he was about to say, words he should never have needed to utter, words that should choke him. _And rightly so! _he thought. He was sure that if he hadn't been a seasoned combat veteran and was able to hide his emotions so well, he would be literally shaking at the impending amends he had to make. It wasn't so much he was apprehensive at making his apology, it was more her reaction that he was scared of. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to blame him or to forgive him more for his inaction in the Bluffwoods. _I won't find out if I don't say anything, _he admonished himself.

_Time to bit the bullet, metaphorically speaking, _Wyatt thought as he took a breath to steady his nerves. "Lucy," he began hesitantly, "it's obvious that you don't want to talk about what happened in Missouri, but you need to. This feeling you're having, that numbness, it's only going to get worse if you don't."

Lucy took a deep breath of her own and slowly turned her head to look at Wyatt. Her eyes had no spark of life and it greatly worried him. It was understandable she wouldn't have her normal attitude, her cheerfulness, but the emptiness he saw truly fightened him. That look was there _because _of him. The hatred he felt for himself in that moment equaled how he hated himself for being the reason his wife was dead. He knew that no matter how much he tried to atone for his sins, whatever afterlife that was waiting for him would not be a pleasant one.

"Why should I?" Lucy asked in a dead voice. "You hardly ever talk about it."

Wyatt winced at her words because she wasn't wrong. "It's different for me, Lucy. I've been in the military for a long time now. I confront death on early mission I go on, that I'll possibly have to fire my weapon to kill the 'enemy.' And it's not fresh for me anymore, not like it is for you. And you know that I don't talk much about my past, anyway," he said, shrugging. It was true. Rufus and Lucy had become like family to him, and were the only two people he'd opened up to in several years, even before Jess had died, really, but even then, he still didn't go too in depth with them. "This is going to eat you alive if you don't face it. You can't bury it like I did, Luce. You're better than that, better than me."

"Wyatt, you're forgetting one very important detail." He frowned at her. "You're not the one who killed a person in cold-blood. _I _did." Lucy's voice almost cracked as she said this and Wyatt's heart broke all over again.

"Oh, Lucy, no. You can't think of it that way." Lucy raised her brows, incredulity written all over her face. He could basically _hear _Lucy's mind shouting at him that there was no way she _couldn't '_think of it that way.' He quickly wracked his brain for a way to get through to her. Lucy began speaking before he could organize his thoughts well enough for a counter argument.

"Wyatt, I could sit here and tell you that I shot James because I wanted justice for those he'd killed after Flynn saved him and that I was trying to protect history, but that would be a lie." He frowned at Lucy, but she continued. "Grant died in my arms, Wyatt. And it was like something snapped inside of me. In the moment that I pulled the trigger and killed a man who'd surrendered wasn't because of justice or protection but revenge, so I became no better than Jesse James. That's something I can never atone for." She said this so sadly that Wyatt wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything would eventually be okay.

"Lucy, do you honestly think that I've never once felt that too? That after that mission in Afghanistan where my entire squad died and I survived only by the chance of the flip of a coin that I didn't want revenge? If I'd had control of a strike drone I'm positive that I'd have wiped that entire village out, regardless of the innocent people who lived there. Or that on any mission after that one that I didn't find satisfaction when we returned fire? It didn't matter those were most likely not the same men, I was still killing my enemy and felt I was getting justice for my friends. Not to mention that four days ago I sat with less than three feet between me and my wife's killer. He was so blasé about it. You have no idea how much I wanted to launch myself across that table and choke the life from him, watching as the life drained from his eyes and let the consequences be damned. So yes, Lucy, I know exactly how you felt and I don't condemn you for it."

Lucy eyes had steadily filled with moisture as he'd talked and finally a tear slipped down her left cheek. He lifted his hand to wipe it away. "It's going to take time and it's not going to be easy, Lucy, but you're going to be okay. The important thing you need to remember is that I'm here for you, anytime you need to talk. Or if you just need someone to sit with you so you're not alone."

Tears fell in earnest from her eyes now and Wyatt pulled Lucy to him, both wrapping their arms around each other tightly. He wasn't sure how long she cried into his shoulder, but he knew this was what she needed, so he wouldn't pull away until she did of her own volition. It surprised him that he wasn't uncomfortable with offering this gesture of comfort to Lucy, to allow her to take from him what she needed with him being content to just sit there and hold her. Before he'd been recruited by Homeland Security for these missions and becoming so close with Lucy, he was sure he'd be very uncomfortable and hoping it would be over soon.

What could have been minutes or hours later, Lucy finally sniffled one last time and pulled away from him. He looked at her splotchy face with red-rimmed eyes, glad that he could see some of the old Lucy there. He knew without a doubt that she would be fine one day. It would never leave her, but she would learn to live with it, just as he had. He would be there in any way he could every step of the way.

With a grateful smile Lucy said, "Thank you, Wyatt. I can't tell you how much you've helped me today."

"I'll always be here for you, Lucy," he replied, sincerity in every word.

She looked at her watch and her eyes widened at the time. "I'm not trying to kick you out or anything, Wyatt, but I'm sure my mom will be home soon and I really don't want to try to explain who you are. She's already curious enough about my "new job" and furious that I won't tell her anything about it and took a leave of abscence from the university. I'd rather not lie to her how I know you." She bit her lip, showing how anxious she was at trying to keep the peace with her mother while wanting to not offend him at the same time.

He just gave a small chuckle to help put her at ease and said, "It's ok, Luce. I completely understand." She gave him another grateful smile.

They walked to the door and he turned around to face her. "I'll check on you later. Please look at your phone every now and then so I don't panic again when you don't respond," he said, not capable of not teasing her a little.

She grinned, saying, "I promise."

He heisted a few moments, just looking at Lucy. Realizing that he was staring, he cleared his throat and said, "Bye, Lucy. Call me if you need to talk again."

Smiling, she said. "I will. Bye, Wyatt."

He walked to his Jeep and pulled away from her house feeling a myriad of emotions; relief, guilt, a sense of accomplishment that he'd helped Lucy in a small way, and also a deep confliction he felt to the depth of his soul. It made him feel restless, so with no destination in mind, he drove around for several hours and it was late as he found himself at his favorite bar, nursing his third glass of whiskey while waiting for Rufus to arrive.

Wyatt had been in deep contemplation as he'd slowly drank the liquor, welcoming the burn as it went down his throat, trying to figure out why he'd felt such confliction as he'd left Lucy's house earlier. He'd finally come to understand that his feelings ran deeper for her than he'd previously thought. The realization had unnerved him and it was over his second glass that he'd came to the conclusion that this thing with Lucy, whatever it was, though very deep down he _knew_ what it was, couldn't continue. It was time to put a stop to it once and for all. That's when he'd texted Rufus asking him meet him.

Rufus arrived a short while later and a brief conversation ensued between him and Wyatt...

_"I want you to help me steal the time machine to save Jess. Will you help me save my wife?"_

**So I decided to add a perspective from Wyatt. I feel like his growing feelings for Lucy and his inability to ignore the denial anymore was the reason he finally decided to steal the Lifeboat to save Jess. It also explains why he said such hurtful things to her and that it wasn't so much to hurt Lucy as much as it was to convince himself that it would be worth it to have never met Lucy if he got his wife back. **

**Also, I've decided I'm going to write a sequel eventually, following the events of season 2. I haven't decided on whether I'm going to ultimately have Lucy end up with Wyatt as originally in the series or if I'm going to completely delve into the world of where Flynn doesn't die and him and Lucy are together. I'd greatly appreciate your input on which direction I should go! :) **


	30. Prelude to a Long Night

Prelude to a Long Night

Wyatt-

Wyatt and Rufus had spent a few hours at the bar researching the parents of his wife's killer after the pilot agreed to help him. He knew _exactly _what it was he needed to do to get Jessica back. So on that score he had a plan. Plans were good, they helped keep him calm and focused. Now, however, he was a jittery mess of nerves as Rufus drove them toward Lucy's house and now he _didn't _have a plan. It'd only been a matter of hours since he'd been on his way there to have a completely different conversation with her. He was nervous in a way that he'd never felt before. Unlike earlier in the day when he'd not had the mental capacity to think of what he wanted to say to Lucy because he was so worried about her, he had the complete opposite problem this time. There were too many thoughts running around in his head at light speed and he couldn't grasp onto what he felt was the most important as he explained the situation to Lucy.

"Just tell her the truth, man," came a quiet voice from his left.

Wyatt turned his head to see a very high-strung, yet determined looking Rufus exchanging glances between him and the road. _How in the hell did he know what I was thinking? _Wyatt asked himself, baffled.

"How did you—" Wyatt's question was cut off with a loud snort and Rufus rolling his eyes in his typical overly-dramatic fashion. So much so that Wyatt wanted to protest at the absurd level of dramatics Rufus was displaying.

"Oh, please, Wyatt! You might be all scary Delta Force soldier when we go on missions, but right now you look every inch the _man _who's trying to figure out how to tell someone he 'really cares about' that he might never see her again because he's going to _steal a time machine _to save his wife and you have absolutely no idea what you're going to say. And if it works, by the way, will mean you possibly won't be recruited in the first place, or if it doesn't, it means we get locked in some unknown, underground prison cell for the rest of our lives!" The volume rose with each word Rufus said and he was almost shouting, his usual manic-nervous energy finally coming out, by the time he was done, making Wyatt want to cover his ears.

Rufus was quiet after that and Wyatt was grateful for the silence. It gave him the time needed for what Rufus said to finally sink in and it brought him up short. If Jess had never died, he never would've become the soldier with his reputation, because he wouldn't have been as reckless and willing to do almost anything to get the job done, making him the number one pick for recruitment for these missions. Or even if he _still _had been recruited, would've he said yes with a wife at home? Maybe a kid, if he'd given in to Jess wanting a baby sometime in the last five years? It was absolutely in the realm of possibility that he could come back and have no idea who Lucy was. It hadn't occurred to him that could happen when he'd decided to ask Rufus to help him. He'd only been thinking he needed to _stop _these feelings he had for her. But by _stopping _them, he might erase her from his life altogether. Was not having those feelings worth the price of never having met her in the first place?

It was a question Wyatt really needed to think about for a long time. Time he currently didn't have...

Lucy-

Lucy sat at the kitchen counter for a long time after Wyatt left. She had more cups of coffee as she thought over what he'd said, letting it resonate within her. He was right, she knew, that if she didn't come to terms with what she'd done, it would eat her alive. She wondered how she would do it, though. She didn't have true justice on her side like Wyatt did, or burning rage like Flynn. So what was her reason, how was she supposed to reconcile her actions in the Bluffwoods. The coffee eventually ran out and she still didn't have any answers.

For the time being, Lucy decided to push it all as far away from her mind as she could and try to get on with life as best she could. She thought that she might try to call Agent Christoper in the next few days and try to either talk with her or maybe find a therapist. It would be a pain to talk in metaphors if the therapist wasn't given clearance to know about the Lifeboat and their missions. Even so, it would still help, so Lucy told herself she would give it a couple days to just process everything and then talk to Christopher. It made her feel a little better to have a plan, and the bagel she'd eaten had helped her feel a bit better, as well.

She was just finishing putting her dishes in the dishwasher when Lucy heard the front door open and her mom soon walked into the kitchen to greet her daughter, as Carol had heard the noise coming from there.

"Hey, Mom, how was your day?" Lucy asked, adopting as normal an attitude as she could. She prayed her mom couldn't see there was something seriously wrong with her daughter.

"Lucy, _what_ are you still doing in your pajamas this late in the day?" Carol asked in a disapproving tone, ignoring her question. _Typical Mom, _Lucy thought with an internal sigh and eye roll.

"I haven't felt well today and I didn't feel like getting dressed," Lucy said politely, not wanting to start an argument with her mom.

"Hmm," Carol said, concern coloring her voice, "Do you need to go to the doctor?" She walked closer so she could press the back of her hand to Lucy's forehead, checking for a temperature.

Lucy ducked, batting her mom's hand away from her, "I don't have a fever," she said, annoyed. "It's just been a headache. I'll be fine after I rest today and get a good night's sleep. I'll wake up brand new tomorrow, I promise. Now, stop fussing, please," she asked beseechingly, only feeling a tad bad for the fib about having a headache.

Carol looked at her for a few moments before acquiescing. Lucy sighed in relief. "So, what did you do today, Mom?"

"I studied my notes before I met Bev and Addison for lunch to go over the final details of the fundraiser. After lunch, I met with the board about the changes to the curriculum I'd like to make," her mom replied. Lucy had forgotten about the fundraiser and board meeting had been coming up for her mom even though she'd been talking about it for days. Taking a trip to the past and killing someone could do that to a person, Lucy mused. She dismissed those thoughts and focused again on her mom.

Lucy was still struck by the differences in her mom from this timeline and the one she thought of as the "original" timeline. In that one, Carol had retired from Stanford, except for still serving on the board and still helping with fundraisers from time to time. She'd taken up tennis with her best friend, Bev, who was also a Stanford professor, and had taken more time for leisure activities. Carol had also spent more time with her daughters, something Lucy sorely missed. Then the cancer had been discovered and everything had changed, her treatment becoming their main focus.

It was the complete opposite in this timeline. While Carol had still retired from teaching, she was still active in the research projects of the History Department, very active on the board and just as active with the fundraisers. All the while, making time for her own personal book projects and also wanting to implement changes to the teaching materials. It looked like she had no plans of slowing down anytime soon, either. She'd also still taken up tennis with Bev. Sometimes Addison, Bev's teaching assistant, joined them. They'd tried to get Lucy to play with them, but Lucy adamantly refused. Knowing her physical limits, it would be lucky if one or more didn't end up hurt after a match involving her. Rufus had practically howled with laughter when she'd shown up to Mason one day in a very bad mood after explaining about an argument with her mom. Carol had been insistent Lucy go to the courts with her and had gotten upset when Lucy flat-out told her no, her mom making 'a mountain out of a mole hole' sized argument. Wyatt hadn't commented but she'd caught his smirk.

"Is the board agreeing to the changes?" Lucy asked.

Carol's expression became frustrated. "They're still a little reluctant, but I'm confident I can get them to agree and have everything in place for the school year after next." It took time to adopt changes, but Lucy had no doubt her mom would get what she wanted. _She usually does, _Lucy thought.

Lucy's mom yawned and said, "Well, I'm tired so I think I'm going to take a bath, maybe go to bed a little early tonight. I was up late going over my notes for the meetings today."

Lucy smiled. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Mom."

"Good night, Lucy," Carol said with a small smile, then she turned and left the kitchen to go upstairs.

Since it was so late in the day, Lucy decided it was pointless to get dressed and would just stay in her pajamas. She moseyed around for a while, tidying up the house here and there before she made her way up to her own room. Grabbing a book about Harry Houdini, she settled down comfortably to read and did so until she fell into a light sleep.

...

Lucy woke to feel fingertips lightly trail along her left cheek. Her eyelids fluttered open and it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of her bedside lamp, the only illumination in the room. The person sitting on her bed didn't immediately become recognizable. She could see that while sitting, the person was tall, with a large, masculine frame. Her eyes focused on hair almost as dark as midnight and bangs that fell over a pair of hazel-green eyes. Lucy was surprised, yet strangely comforted, to find that Garcia Flynn was sitting beside her. _His _hand was touching her cheek, a look of longing in the gaze she was currently lost in.

"Flynn," she whispered, not moving toward _or _away from him.

"Oh, Lucy," he said, sadness coloring his voice. "I'm so sorry," he said as he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

Lucy was more bewildered than surprised at his behavior. _What on earth could _he _have to be sorry about? _she wondered to herself. She wrapped her arms around him, the thought of pushing him away, like she _should, _never crossing her mind. "What are _you_ sorry for?" she asked quietly.

"Everything," he practically sobbed. "Everything is my fault. I never should've started any of this. If I hadn't, you wouldn't have had to clean up _my_ mess in Missouri."

_Oh, _she thought, her heart breaking for him. "Flynn, it wasn't your fault," she said, rubbing her arms up and down his back to comfort him. "_I'm _the one who picked up that gun and made the decision to shoot Jesse James. You didn't make me," she said in a soothing tone, hoping that being gentle and reassuring would comfort Flynn. He was shaking in her embrace so she held him tightly, staying silent to give him the time he needed to to reclaim control over his emotions.

Lucy idly wondered how long Flynn had been in her house. Not only that, but _how _did he get in. She was sure that she'd locked all the doors and set the alarm before she'd gone upstairs. _He must've picked the lock or found the spare key. He must also know the code somehow since the alarm didn't go off,_ she thought. It was strange, she knew she _should _be bothered by all that, but she wasn't. In that moment, all she knew was that she was grateful he was there. She was deriving just as much comfort from his presence as he was from her, maybe more. Holding Flynn in her arms was like a cooling balm to a sunburn that was on her soul.

Several minutes passed and they just held each other. The silence was finally broken. "I know I shouldn't be here," Flynn said as he pulled away from her far enough that they could look each other in the eye, "but I _had_ to check on you, to be here if you needed anything." Concern was etched all over his face.

His sincere words touched Lucy in a way that Wyatt's had not. She'd gotten the impression from him that he was just trying to assuage his own guilt. She could sense that while Flynn also felt guilty, he was here for _her, _not himself. It made all the difference in the world to her. Talking though, was the _last _thing that she wanted. She was tired of talking, so she decided to say to hell with it and do what she _wanted _to do, not what she should, and pulled Flynn back to her, crushing her lips against his. His shock on what was practically an assault lasted only seconds before he was kissing her back, taking control of the kiss as he parted her lips with his tongue. Lucy moaned as she opened for him and felt his tongue dancing with hers in a way she hadn't realized until that moment that it was something she'd been craving for days.

They kissed and kissed until they couldn't breathe and broke apart, each gasping for air to fill their lungs. "We shouldn't be doing this," Flynn said quietly.

"I know," Lucy replied, "but I really don't care." Flynn studied her intently for a few moments before he apparently made the decision that he agreed with her because he gently pushed Lucy backwards on the bed and stretched his long body out beside her.

In no hurry, both Lucy and Flynn leaned forward and kissed again. There was no frenzy this time, but the kisses certainly didn't lack passion. It was only that they wanted to take their time, explore each other in a leisurely fashion. Her left arm circled his middle and he brought his right hand up to cup the back of her neck, pulling her even closer. Lucy could feel desire tighten low in her belly, making her body quiver in anticipation. Flynn's desire was quickly becoming apparent as she felt his shaft swell against her abdomen. It was just as his hand was making its slow descent down her body, a hairs breadth away from her breast when she became aware of a loud knocking sound.

She jolted upright in bed, realization dawning on her that she'd been dreaming and the reason she was pulled from the very welcome dream was that someone was knocking loudly on the front door of the house. The knocking persisted and increased in frequency so Lucy quickly threw her robe on over her pajamas and made her way down the stairs at a fast pace. She figured it had to be Wyatt or Rufus, because if the Lifeboat had jumped, she would've just received a phone call. She was bewildered to the fact that whichever one was at her door hadn't just called her, eliminating the possibility of waking her mother. It would definitely be a hard situation to explain, and one she hoped wouldn't be necessary. So far, thankfully, her mom didn't seem to be aware of the commotion so Lucy hurried even more so to open the door, wanting to keep it that way.

Lucy opened the door to again see Wyatt on the doorstep and the look she saw in his eyes told her she wasn't going to like why he was at her house at this time of night.


	31. Deceit and Betrayal

Deceit and Betrayal

Flynn-

Flynn removed the earbuds and carefully closed the lid on his laptop. The anger coursing through him at the moment was so great it was a miracle that he hadn't snapped the thing in half. He knew that conversation was coming and Lucy had written that it'd hurt her, but Flynn had been unprepared for the depth of emotion he'd felt at the pain in her voice. If it were at all possible, he simultaneously wanted to comfort Lucy and throttle Logan. No matter the struggle the soldier was feeling, it didn't justify what he'd said and how much pain he'd just selfishly inflicted on her. It had been grossly unfair of him to subject her to that just to make himself feel better. _Someday I'm going to punch that self-righteous bastard right in the face for Lucy, _he vowed. She might not appreciate the gesture, but it was something she deserved. _Whether__ she agrees with me or not, _he thought, chuckling, clearly able to picture the consternation he knew would be on her face when that time came.

Lucy had tried so hard, had come up with so many frantic excuses for her to go with Logan and Rufus, and that damn soldier had still rebuffed her. Flynn knew, as much as he didn't want to admit it, that Logan had done it to protect Lucy. But then the asshole had gone and unnecessarily hurt her. In the attempt to keep his rage under control, he left his personal sanctuary and went to the kitchen where he found Emma and Anthony. They were conversing about her time in Missouri, again. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Want one?" Emma asked, noticing his entry, as she was in the process of grabbing a beer from the fridge.

Flynn wasn't really in the mood for the "bonding" activity sharing a beer would seem like, so he shook his head and got right to the point in his usual gruff manner. "Tell me more about what you know about Rittenhouse and their plans before your _self-imposed exile_ into the past." He worked very hard at tamping down the sarcasm he wanted so badly to voice. He _had _to play his part in all of this, so he would do the best he could. These were times when his brusque nature was his best asset. If he was as discourteous with her as he was with everyone else, it wouldn't look suspicious if he treated Emma the same way. The only two people he treated with a modicum of respect were Karl and Anthony. Karl because he was the closest thing he had to a friend and Anthony because he'd needed a pilot.

As Flynn walked around with Emma, speculating about Rittenhouse plans she 'didn't know about,' he was truly disappointed that Anthony had decided to go ahead and betray him. To be fair, he could've tried to sway Anthony in another direction, but Flynn was acutely aware of how one little change to the course of events could change the future. He _needed _the future to be set, as set as it could be, for now anyways. Sometimes along the way there was room for deviation, like in Chicago, but that was what felt like an anomaly to Flynn, something that didn't often happen when it came to their journey to take down Rittenhouse.

As Emma talked away beside him, Flynn wondered if Anthony had Lucy had gunpoint yet. He was upset that Anthony would even _dare _to pull a gun on the woman he lo— _Stop it, Flynn! _he commanded himself. There was no use going down that road so he put up a mental block on that subject so thick that it would make a Jedi proud. He smiled fondly as memories of sitting and watching those iconic movies with his mom, her pointing out any flaws in the science. He idly wondered if Lucy liked Star Wars. A sudden image flashed across his mind of the two of them cuddled up on a couch, laughing as Master Yoda kicked Luke Skywalker's ass with his maniacal-like laugh and obvious joy having a live person to talk to after so long. _STOP!!! This isn't helping! _

_Concentrate, _Flynn told himself. He needed to tell Emma, with as little details as possible, that they needed to prepare for Anthony's betrayal. As he related the coming events to her, he was sickened to see the delight she was unable to mask in the depths of her eyes. _She truly lives for the kill, _he thought in disgust, making sure to hide his own thoughts concerning her. He didn't need her turning on him before it was time. Emma was _extremely _interested in _how _he knew Anthony was going to try to destroy the Mothership, but he'd been as vague as he possibly could. It wouldn't be the last time she asked, her eyes had glittered with curiosity and determination to get answers.

Flynn sighed. He was really going to miss this little haven they'd carved out for themselves in this abandoned church. While Anthony was "out", Flynn gave Karl quiet instructions to begin packing up the small things, things that wouldn't be noticeable to Anthony when he got back. That way they would be ready to go as soon as possible. It wouldn't take long for Mason, Inc. to find the location and they needed to be long gone by then. They would jump to 1927 soon, and there was much that needed preparing for the jump, in terms of supplies they were taking. Now that it was going to be just him, Karl, and Emma, there wasn't as much manpower for the heavy lifting. _Hazard of the job, _he thought in mild annoyance.

It wasn't too long after Anthony had come back that he suggested that Emma take the Mothership out to "refresh" her piloting skills since it had been so long since her last "flight". Flynn had pulled Emma away, just far enough out of sight to watch him, to give Anthony the choice on whether he was going to try to place the C-4 or not. Masking their footsteps as best they could, he and Emma snuck back up to Anthony. He was so concentrated that he didn't even notice their approach.

"So, Anthony, you've decided to abandon our cause?" Flynn asked sardonically.

Anthony jumped, a look of sheer panic on his face as he turned to look at Flynn and Emma, knowing he was clearly caught. "I—I." He gulped. "I can't let this go on. I can't risk letting Rittenhouse get their hands on this ship. At least, if the Mothership is gone, it's one less chance of Rittenhouse going back in time, changing what they want to their twisted vision." Anthony's words rang with conviction, and Flynn couldn't fault him for his thinking, or the willingness to destroy something a large part of his career had been dedicated to. Especially since it was something as phenomenal as a time machine. But Flynn couldn't afford for a hiccup such as this to his plans.

Flynn held the gun up, to show how serious he was. "I'm sorry, Anthony, but I can't let you do this. I hope you understand," he said, a bit sadly.

Before Flynn could do or say anything else, two gunshots rang out. And they had _not _been from his weapon. He turned to look to his right and saw Emma with her own weapon raised, a satisfied smile on her face. He had no idea when she'd procured her own gun. He was adept enough at hiding his emotions that no hint of surprise or anger showed on his face. Flynn had already decided that he would not kill Anthony. He had no idea where they were going next or future plans so he wouldn't be able to divulge any secrets when Homeland Security got their hands on him. It wouldn't have hurt to let him live. Besides, Flynn always tried not to kill if it wasn't necessary. Apparently, Emma didn't share the same philosophy.

"Serves the bastard right for his betrayal," Emma said, matter-of-factly.

Flynn just gave her an indifferent look. The irony of that sentence was not lost on him. It took every thread of self-control he had not to turn his own weapon upon the deceitful woman. _You still need a pilot, and she's your last option, _he reminded himself.

"Yes, I suppose so," he drawled. "Let's get ready, get the C-4 ready. It's time to go."

Emma nodded, leaving to help Karl with the essentials they were taking with them. Flynn headed to his little room and packed up his own meager possessions and equipment. A thrum of excitement zinged through his blood. He would soon be seeing Lucy, in the most romantic city in the world, not as if that really mattered, though. They were certainly not going to be meeting up for a romantic rendezvous. He snorted lightly, the thought of trying to romance Lucy in the catacombs under the streets of Paris, setting up a candlelit dinner while surrounded by thousands of bones, striking him as funny, but not with true humor.

Several minutes later, Flynn met with Emma and Karl by the Mothership. "All ready? The charges set?" he asked.

"Yep," Karl replied. "They're set to blow about ten minutes after we leave."

Flynn nodded. The increasing danger had led everyone else, except Karl and now Emma, to be the only people to still willingly travel into the past with him. He couldn't blame them. He took one last look around before following his last two companions, the word not truly applying to Emma, into the time machine. He buckled his safety harness and let Emma take them to their next hideout. He would unpack, get some sleep, and then they would travel to their next destination. He closed his eyes and let himself think of how it would feel to see Lucy again.


	32. The Buzz of Conversation

The Buzz of Conversation

Lucy-

Lucy was in turmoil, her emotions in an upheaval as she was on her way back to Mason, Inc. Flynn had jumped to Paris for Lindbergh's first transatlantic flight, but she couldn't concentrate on those details. There were so many conversations buzzing around in her head that she was having trouble paying to attention to her driving. She was never this careless; not since the night she'd gone off the road in college. Her mind was too wrapped up in this completely, mind-blowingly, fucked up situation. Lucy hardly ever swore, out loud or in her mind, the lesson her mother had ingrained in her that swearing was _vulgar,_ but there was absolutely no better way to refer to what was currently happening in her life.

She'd still been reeling from Missouri when Wyatt had come to tell her he was going back to save Jessica. It was understandable, but what she couldn't comprehend was the hurtful things he had said to her. It was loud and clear that he wanted no more from her than friendship, but did that really justify what he'd said? She didn't think so, but she was also half-heartedly telling herself that he was in his own world of emotional pain so she should give him a break, but she knew that was an excuse; only trying to make herself feel better. It had worked well enough so she told herself to let it go, that it was the least of her worries.

After Lucy had gone into Mason, Inc. after Wyatt had left her house, it had turned into an even bigger emotional rollercoaster. Anthony Bruhl wanting to meet with her had been one hell of a surprise, then turning into absolute fear as he'd gotten rid of her tracker and held her at gun point. A stab of revulsion had hit her when he told her about what Rittenhouse planned to do with the Mothership. Life may not be perfect, for anyone, but them wanting to reshape the world into what they wanted was horrifying. Lucy had decided that she would _not _let that happen. As wrong as Flynn's actions were, she couldn't fault him for wanting to stop Rittenhouse. She'd already understood why he was doing what he was doing, for his family, at least, but now she understood his determination against Rittenhouse as a whole. It was something she never thought she would ever admit, to another person, or even herself. It was a sobering realization when she'd suggested they _let _Flynn keep on his path, that they quit trying to stop him. The horror she'd seen reflected on the faces of Agent Christopher and Rufus had been like a punch to the gut as they reminded her he was still hurting people, even if his intentions were good.

Then Wyatt and Rufus had come back and she'd had to deliver the news that Jessica was still dead. Lucy would never forget the look of devastation on Wyatt's face as he realized they'd saved the two other women, but not his wife, that whatever he'd done in pursuit to bring her back had failed. Nor would she forget his anguished pleas that they had to be mistaken when he'd been forcibly removed from the landing bay. Her heart had broken for him and she would hear his pained cries that his wife had to be alive in her dreams for weeks to come.

Lucy had been so angry over _everything_ that she'd gone back to Benjamin Cahill's home and stormed inside, intent to tell him _exactly _what she thought of him and the organization that he was a part of. She wanted him to know just how _wrong _Rittenhouse was and that she wanted no part of it. It had surprised her when Benjamin, she would _not _call him her father, had laughed at her; definitely not the reaction she'd been expecting. It had also been hard to hear him say that she was a part, whether she wanted to be or not, of Rittenhouse, too; that it was in her blood. It was a reminder she could've done without. It made her feel tainted, even if it was something she had absolutely zero control over.

Jiya's words from earlier were haunting Lucy as she thought back on them. _If you love someone...you tell them. _Jiya hadn't said it, but she'd implied that Wyatt loved her because he'd told her about his plans. Lucy had wanted to laugh, to tell Jiya that she was one-hundred percent wrong about the feelings Wyatt had for her. It was as if he'd put it in writing that he only wanted to be her friend. It left a slightly bitter taste in her mouth, but she was gradually hardening her heart, in the romantic sense, toward Wyatt. She would be damned if she let him break her heart when she could prevent it.

_Focus, Lucy! Paris, 1927. What do you remember?" _she asked herself. Lucy had already told Rufus and Agent Christopher the most prominent details about the event, but was there anything she missed? She didn't think so. They couldn't be sure what details were important until they got there. She wasn't exactly sure what would happen to the timeline if Lindbergh hadn't been the one to complete the first transatlantic flight. Surely there would've been someone else who would do it, right? But if Lindbergh didn't achieve the fame he did, would he still have gone to Germany, become an isolationist, advocated against joining the war before the attack at Pearl Harbor?

What about the many other things he'd done with his fame? He used it to begin air-mail service, a service still used to this day. He designed a watch that would help pilots navigate, also still in production. Would his first-born child, Charles Jr., still have been kidnapped and murdered for ransom money? He'd also partnered with Alexis Carrel, a Nobel Prize-winning French surgeon, in studying the heart. His research and the invention of a glass perfusion pump is credited with making future heart surgeries possible. This invention eventually led to the first heart-lung machine, a machine still used in heart surgery, saving an untold number of lives.

Lucy's head spun with what could change if Flynn interfered with this flight. There were always consequences to the smallest of changes. She'd learned that the hard way. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she had to have faith that Agent Christoper would honor their deal to get Amy back. She couldn't let herself believe that Amy was lost to her forever, or she would crumble to tiny pieces. She understood all too well why Wyatt had risked his freedom to save his wife. She just wished that it had worked, for his sake, and he was not imprisoned somewhere for nothing. She missed him, she couldn't help it. It was hard to think that her and Rufus would be traveling into the past for the first time without him. What she'd told Christopher after they came back from the Alamo, that she trusted no one more than Wyatt, that was still true. She didn't like the idea of having another soldier who hadn't been through all the shit they had be their new 'protector'. Lucy tried her best to push that aside. There was nothing she could do about it and it wouldn't do any good to dwell on it.

...

"Wow, Lucy. You look amazing," Jiya said as she helped Lucy fix her headband, completing the traditional 'flapper' outfit of the 1920s.

Lucy ran a critical eye over her appearance in the mirror. The black and silver sequined dress, double-looped pearl neacklace, long, dangling earrings, black tights, and silver heeled shoes, all paired with the short, wavy bob and deep red lipstick, painted quite the sexy picture. It was a look Lucy had never thought she'd see herself in. In a moment of vanity, she thought she looked pretty damn good. She gave Jiya a genuine smile, her first in several days.

"Thank you," Lucy said. She gave herself another once-over and grinned at the computer genius. "It's not exactly my normal look, is it?"

Jiya laughed, the smile reaching her eyes. Lucy thought it was nice to see after the tumultuous feelings everyone had been experiencing since Wyatt and Rufus 'stole' the Lifeboat.

"Well, I think it's hot. You go show those swaggering young bucks in Paris what a classy lady looks like!"

Lucy laughed. It felt so good to laugh with true humor. The friendly banter and compliments from Jiya was like a breath of fresh air.

"Someday, when there's no emergency, we're going to come in and play dress up. I'd like to see you in a hoop-skirt so wide you can barely fit through a door," Lucy whispered conspiratorially, a devious grin on her face.

Jiya rolled her eyes. "When is there _not _an emergency?" she asked.

That put a bit of a damper on Lucy's rare, jovial mood. Jiya wasn't wrong. The time between Flynn's jumps were getting shorter and shorter; leaving little down-time in between. It would almost be more practical if some kind of dorm was constructed so they could all just stay at Mason. It would definitely save time if they weren't constantly getting called back almost as soon as they got home. Lucy didn't like the lack of privacy a dorm would mean so she dismissed the idea then and there, it not really being something she would _actually _consider. She doubted the others would go for it either, laughing at the image of horror of Rufus' face at the suggestion he share a living space with several other people.

"That's true. We don't have much time to ourselves anymore," Lucy said with a sigh.

"No," Jiya replied with a small shake of her head. A quiet sadness overtook the room. "Well, you better get out there."

Lucy nodded.

Several minutes later, Lucy fumbled with her harness, acutely missing Wyatt's help. She looked up to see Master Sergeant Dave Bamgaudner, "Bam Bam," as Rufus had called him, not struggling at all. It was _really _annoying. Since she didn't know him, she didn't really feel comfortable asking him for help, so she bumbled her way through it, almost shouting a triumphant "AHA!" when she finally had it buckled. Lucy didn't like that Wyatt wasn't with them, but she felt reassured that Bam Bam was a friend of his and someone he trusted. Rufus had told her what Wyatt had said about him as they'd entered the Lifeboat. If Wyatt trusted Bam Bam to take care of them, then she would too.

"Everyone ready?" Rufus asked.

Bam Bam rubbed his hands together like an excited kid. "Absolutely!"

Lucy couldn't help her smile at his enthusiasm. It was refreshing.

"Let's go see some history," she quipped. Rufus and Bam Bam laughed at her joke.

Rufus started the sequence to send them back in time and Lucy braced herself for the bumpy ride. They landed with the usual jolt and Lucy was glad the nauseous feeling didn't affect her as much as it used to. _Small victories, _she told herself.

Lucy, Rufus, and Bam Bam made their way along the dark path from where they'd landed the Lifeboat.

Lucy walked slowly between her companions, wondering just what it was they were going to have to do this time. _Well, here we go, again, _she thought.


	33. Lost and Found

**I want to preface this chapter with an apology on how long it's taken me to update. You would think that staying home these last few months would give me nothing _but _time to write, but I found it wasn't the case with me. The one year anniversary of my grandma passing away occurred during the lockdown and it deeply affected me. We were extremely close and I'd spent the last year of her life as her caregiver so she could be at home during her time in hospice. It was extremely emotionally draining to watch her decline and lose her to cancer and that despair was triggered by the isolation and the year mark. It's been rough, but I'm managing a bit better now and hope to write more often. Please don't give up on my story, I promise not to leave it unfinished! :)**

Lost and Found

Wyatt-

It was due to his extensive training and subsequent years of being a cynical shell-of-a-man that Wyatt was able to efficiently compartmentalize his mind. He was so adept at it that it was almost second nature and required barely any effort to employ it. And it had kicked into high gear the moment he'd been drug away from Mason, Industries. One part of his mind was occupied with his 'removal.' He'd been handcuffed, a black bag pulled roughly over his head, and then rudely shoved into the back of a van where he'd been shackled so tightly he could barely twitch a muscle. _It was almost if I were Osama Bin-Laden himself, if the man wasn't dead, of course, _Wyatt had thought sardonically about the _terrorist-in-custody _treatment. Another part was keeping track of and timing the vehicle's motions, giving him a basic estimate of where he was going. It wasn't like it _really _mattered, though. It was practically a guarantee, considering how top secret the project was, that he would never see the light of day again.

The final part of his mind was keeping up an internal litany of _fuck fuck fuck—I'm fucked—I'm _so_ fucked—fuck fuck **FUCK!**_

It wasn't lost on Wyatt that he was in a situation of his own making. It was what made his heart ache the most. He could've avoided this! But he was an impatient bastard and had utterly ruined the only good thing that he'd had going for him in the last five years. There was no one to blame but himself and he knew that, he wasn't going to try to blame someone else for his mistakes. The disappointment and anger on Christopher's face when he and Rufus had exited the Lifeboat had hit him like an upper-cut to the ribs, but it was the look on Lucy's face as she'd told him that he'd failed that had cut down to his very soul. He would never forget the look in her eyes; the agonized expression that would forever be the last one he would ever see on her beautiful face. It was enough to completely shatter his already damaged-beyond-repair heart.

Wyatt had failed not only Jessica, but he'd failed all of the others as well. Rufus for pulling him into this mess; Agent Christopher for allowing him to stay on the team after Rufus and Lucy had gone to bat for him; Rufus and Lucy for putting their trust in him and giving him their friendship; but most of all he'd failed Lucy. Other than Jessica, Wyatt had never met a purer soul, someone as inherently _good_ as Lucy Preston, and now he would never see her again because of his own reckless selfishness. He wanted to rage at the world, beat his fists into anything within his reach, scream until he no longer had a voice or breath left within him; he did none of those things, however. He sat, calmly, as if he had not a care in the world, while his world crumbled around him.

Flynn-

Flynn was leaning against a wall in the catacombs beneath the streets of Paris. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was wearing his "broody" expression, the look Karl was so fond of teasing him about. He was thinking about how much he actually _hated _changing important historical events. He tried not to dwell on it too much, but he really didn't have much else to concentrate on as he waited for Karl to bring Lucy to him. He was glad Emma wasn't around at the moment, he really didn't think he could stomach her 'chattiness,' her constant voice on the edge of gloating always threatening to make him nauseous. He pushed the redhead from his mind and his thoughts circled back around to how he didn't truly enjoy the things he'd done; would still do. He knew he had to be the villain, but it wasn't something he liked. He just tried to treat it like any other job; doing his best to dissociate himself from his reprehensible acts.

He could hear Lucy and Karl coming before he saw them and Flynn mentally stomped down the urge to laugh. As typical when it came to Lucy, she was struggling in Karl's hold and trying to pull herself from his grasp as she griped at him to let her go when they finally came into view. It seemed that Karl was holding a bit of a grudge from the headache he'd had after Houdini had knocked him out in Chicago and was a bit rougher than strictly necessary while _handling_ Lucy. _Oh, she's a feisty one, _he thought, fighting hard not to let his nonchalant facade break. Lucy looked like she wanted to slap Karl and he wouldn't put it past her to try if he hadn't abruptly stalked off after Flynn told him to release her.

Their ensuing conversation about Lindbergh was brief. He felt bad that he'd struck a nerve about the new soldier Karl had killed, Wyatt, and her ties to Rittenhouse, but he was glad it only took a well-placed comment or two to get Lucy to agree to what he was aiming for. Flynn had known, thanks to her journal, exactly how to get Lucy to talk him out of his 'plan' to torture the injured man and then kill him. He felt a bit of guilt at the deception, but it was a significantly better _and _a much easier method than to actually torture him to get the information he needed. It was also good to know that Lucy wasn't completely drowned in her heartache of the past few days to have lost her sense of humanity and the desire was still there to protect a _misunderstood_ man. Flynn was infinitely proud of her.

Flynn knew he should take Lucy to Lindbergh straight away, but he wavered, feeling a desperate need to hear from her lips that she was okay, if only in the smallest sense of the word. Thankful that the Bluetooth speaker that was connected to the bug in the holding room was out of sight, he took her to the little off-set in the tunnel and faced her, about two feet separating them. She was obviously confused why he'd taken her there instead of to Lindbergh, her forehead furrowing further as they came to a halt.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, looking around the small space, laying her ostentatious fur coat a table.

"I wanted to talk to you where no one else could hear us," Flynn replied truthfully and simply.

"Why?"

"Lucy," Flynn began. He hesitated, not really sure what he should say. Taking a deep breath, he said the first words that came to mind, "Lucy, I wanted to ask if you were...coping?" He kept his voice even and sure. It was apparent that she knew immediately what he meant because her face went stony and her body visibly stiffened. His heart ached, he knew what that was like; knew how it felt to be reminded that you'd done something horrifically unforgivable.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice like ice.

"Lu—"

Lucy raised her hand to stop him and her name died on his lips, this was not the time to push her. She took two steps forward so that there was only a little less than half a foot separating them. "I'm not talking about _anything_ that happened in or since Missouri," she said in a hardened tone.

"But—" He was cut off again.

"No, Flynn," she said sharply. "You have two, and _only_ two, options in this moment." Her voice lowered dangerously and her eyes narrowed at him. "You can either take me to Lindbergh or...you can kiss me. It's up to you." She shrugged, then became still and silent to await his decision.

It took Flynn only three seconds to react to her words. The first was to repeat in his head what Lucy had said. The second was for full comprehension to sink in. The third was to give Lucy the chance to change her mind. She only cocked an eyebrow at his hesitation. The challenging posture and glint in her eyes was all he needed to spur him into action. Flynn closed the little distance between them, kissing her like his life depended on it. She moaned into his mouth at the contact and he felt it resonate within his soul. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

Lucy's outfit holding true to the time period meant that her undergarments were fairly flimsy and the dress she was wearing was also very thin, which afforded Flynn the ability to feel when her nipples hardened into stiff peaks against his chest. His own arousal was just as expeditiously roused. To be honest he'd already been primed from when he'd first seen her undeniably and incredibly sexy visage, so it didn't take much for his shaft to being swelling. Their thinly-veiled insulting banter earlier had been a type of strange foreplay in his mind. To say that he was shocked Lucy had invited him to kiss her was an understatement, but he sure as hell wasn't going to reject the invitation. He knew they shouldn't be doing this, the information he needed from the pilot should be the only thing that mattered, but Flynn was physically unable to bring himself to stop kissing her. He doubted it was even possible at this point.

Their tongues tangled and Flynn felt the tension leaching from his body. The feel of Lucy's body pressed into his and her scent enveloping him quickly became the only things his brain continued to process, everything else pushed out as if swatted away by a flyswatter. She pressed her body into his and threw her arms around his neck, her fingers plunging into the hair at the nape of his neck. He felt goosebumps raise all over his body at her touch. Groaning quietly, still cognizant that they weren't entirely alone, Flynn gently guided Lucy backward until she was in front of the table. Without prompting, Lucy pulled herself up to sit on the flat surface. She automatically widened her legs and Flynn stepped between them and looked into her eyes, giving her one more chance to change her mind. Flynn had his answer when she leaned forward and pushed his jacket from his shoulders. It fell to the ground with a soft _thump._ _Well, I'm not going to deny the beautiful lady what she wants_, he thought, especially since her wants so clearly aligned with his.

Flynn leaned down until his palms were flat against the tabletop, and with their substantial height difference, he was eye level with Lucy. For a few moments they just stared at each other, searching each other's eyes for God only knew what. He was aware of what his body wanted, but he pushed it aside, lost in the depth of Lucy's chocolate-tinted orbs. The intensity of the look she bestowed upon rooted him to the ground. Neither an earthquake nor stampeding bulls would be able to dislodge him from where he stood. He leaned forward so he could nuzzle her jawbone, inhaling her light, sweet scent.

"Lucy—" he whispered against her skin. Flynn had been planning to offer Lucy another chance to stop this, but the words never left his mouth.

"Yes," she softly said. Flynn didn't try to suppress the shudder that rippled through his body as her warm breath caressed his ear.

His hands were just inching their way up her silk-clad legs and under the skirt of her dress when there was a loud thud followed by a groan of pain. "_Sranje_," Flynn cursed under his breath. He'd forgotten all about Lindbergh. He repeated the curse in his mind again. Stepping away from Lucy, he ran a hand over his face, trying to give himself more time to clear his mind and calm his body. _So stupid, _he thought. Lucy deserved better than a quick romp on a table in the Parisian catacombs like some common prostitute. He respected her more than that. He'd lost his head, is all. It was Lucy and it was too easy to do.

Not sure what to say, Flynn picked his jacket up, slid his arms back into it, then gestured for her to follow him. Lucy hopped down a bit clumsily from the table, straightened her dress, picked her coat up, stiffened her spine with determination and gave him a look that said _lead on. _Without a word they walked in silence to the hostage.

Lucy-

Lucy clenched her hands together so tightly that her knuckles were white as she followed Flynn to the room where Lindbergh was held captive. It was like an anchor for her mind to keep from spinning out of control, breathing deeply and praying for her body to calm. She was surprised at her boldness. It had definitely not been her plan to be captured, _again_, this evening, but luck was hardly ever on her side anymore. It was increasingly annoying. She wanted to kick herself for allowing the separation between her, Rufus, and Hemingway. _A rookie mistake_, she'd grumbled to herself as that brutish Karl had manhandled her, _again_. She was highly sick of his boorish behavior and vowed her would never get the drop on her again.

She wasn't sure what had made her give Flynn an ultimatum like she had, either. Lucy knew she should've made him take her directly to Lindbergh, to make the 'mission' a priority, but it was like the rational part of her brain had taken an ill-timed vacation. It seemed to be an irritatingly increasing occurrence_. I probably need to work on that_, she thought sardonically. Although it was undoubtedly a bad decision to have almost lost control with Flynn, it was undeniable that it had begun to work wonders on the tension she'd been feeling for days. Sex was always a good way to relax, but sex with Flynn—something could admit to herself that she desperately wanted again—had been like nothing Lucy had ever experienced before; like it was transcendent or something. She almost laughed aloud at the thought. 'Transcending' sex was the stuff of romance and sci-fi novels, movies, and TV shows, not _real_ life. She figured it was a thought to ponder later. Now, with her head much clearer, she needed to get her head back in the game, back to Charles Lindbergh, back to figuring out what on earth she could say to persuade the man to leave Rittenhouse behind him. It was a daunting task.

**...**

**Sranje means shit in Croation.**


End file.
